A Pocketful of Nothin' is Still Too Much to Lose
by jujitsuelf
Summary: May, 1876. Cougar Alvarez is in jail, who's coming to save him? *** This is a WIP but it's well on the way to being finished. It's approx 56k words now, so it'll take a while to get posted. Hopefully you'll all enjoy reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it. JJ/Cougar. Don't like, don't read.
1. Chapter 1

It's May 26, 1876. I'm in Abilene, Kansas. Should've had more sense than to come this way again but, hell, I get a thought in my mind and it's stuck there till I do something about it. Jake tried to talk me out of it. Should've listened to him. But it's okay, he's coming. I know he's coming.

I thought maybe the folk round here would have forgotten the little disagreement I had with the saloon owner a couple years back. Figured they'd have bigger fish to fry by now. This ain't called the Wild West for nothin'. But, seems they got longer memories than I thought. More fool me for passing this way again so soon. Should have never shot the lousy bastard, his liquor was little better than horse piss anyway. Man riled me up though and shoot him I did. Again, more fool me. Should've listened to Jake, he's forever tellin' me to keep a lid on my damn temper. But then, he's always tellin' me a lot of things, he's a real talker is Jake.

He's educated too, he can write and read a lot more'n me. Sometimes when we're out on the prairie and it's just the two of us with nothing but the horses and the stars overhead, he'll read his books out loud. I know folks would laugh to hear me say such a thing, but damn, I could listen to that man read the Constitution and never get bored of just hearin' his voice.

Then again, I imagine people would be surprised to know I even think things like that. I guess 'cause I don't say much, most of 'em figure I'm kinda slow. That makes me laugh, quiet I might be but slow I ain't. Jake's got more book learning than me but I'm better at planning what we do. You know, what towns we pass though, which banks we can hit and get away from with our lives and maybe a little profit. Sometimes we'll do a stagecoach but Jake don't much like that, says he hates seein' the looks in peoples' eyes as he robs 'em. Me, I don't much care.

I guess I proved Jake right though, this time. He said it was a fool idea to come here again but, well, I guess I'm just an ornery bastard once I get my mind set on a thing. But it's okay, he's coming. He always comes for me. Just like I always go for him when he gets himself in trouble.

And boy, can Jake find trouble. It's his mouth that does it, he just don't know when to stop talking. I've heard him talk us both out of free meals and beds for the night and into a gunfight the next mornin'. He's a whole pack of worry, I swear he's turning my hair grey. But I wouldn't be without him. Folks'll say it's all wrong, unnatural, a hell of a sin for one man to feel like this about another, but I don't care. Jake's mine, has been for years and I ain't giving him up for nobody. He feels the same 'bout me. I know 'cause he told me only last night. Right before he cursed me for a fool and turned his back on me, stealing the good blanket and leavin' me to shiver till dawn. Some good our damn campfire was, hell, I'm still cold now.

Or maybe I'm cold 'cause I'm locked in. I hate being locked in anyplace. And bein' locked in a jail cell with a gallows outside my window, well, that's bound to give me the shakes. But it's all right, Jake's coming. Don't know how he'll do it, but he'll get me out. Won't be the first time one of us has had to break the other out of a jail. He'll come, he won't leave me to hang. If he doesn't come, it's 'cause he's dead and then I'll go to the noose with a smile on my face. Death ain't gonna stop me finding Jake again, I already know that. But if we can steal a few more years here on earth, I'd be grateful. I don't suppose hell is any more pleasant for two guys like me an' Jake than anyplace else. Or maybe it's better, we are sinners after all. When it all boils down, I don't care where I am, heaven, hell, right here in this shitty cell. As long as Jake's nearby, I'm all right. And Jake's coming, I know he is.

The bed in this cell's better than the ground I slept on last night but I can't rest. Can't stop thinking. Nothing feels right, 'less Jake's looking at me over the campfire. He laughs at me more often than not, says I'm too soft for my own good sometimes but he's wrong. I'm too hard, that's my trouble. I shot that man in the saloon and I didn't feel a thing. Still don't. The guy asked for it, he drew a gun on Jake. I'd kill anyone, John Hardin, Billy the Kid, Bat Masterson, anyone, if they so much as looked at Jake sideways. Scares me sometimes, just what I'm willing to do to protect that man.

I can hear the town drunks singin' as they walk down the street. Guess they got kicked out of the place they call home. The cell bars bite into my back as I lean against 'em but I don't really feel it. I'm too busy thinking. I don't have a home, ain't had one for a long time. Not that I mind, I like to keep moving, safer that way, especially when you're an outlaw. Stayin' in one place is asking for trouble. But, it looks like I can find trouble when I'm on the move too. Can't win sometimes. Jake's coming though, there's plenty of night left yet. Jake'll come.


	2. Chapter 2

Jake Jensen's the only person in the world I ever cared about. Maybe I loved my parents but I never knew 'em. Been on my own as long as I can remember. Got out of that God-awful orphanage and ran. Guess I've been running ever since, scared they'll send me back. Not that they'd have me now, too old. And an outlaw to boot. Always told us to be good boys, they did. Guess I messed that one up. Not that I mind, if I was a good boy I wouldn't have met Jake. I'd rather be going to hell knowing Jake'll be right there with me than on my own in heaven.

Nobody's got eyes like Jake. Bluer 'an the sky or cornflowers or any lake I've ever seen. Never seen the sea so I don't know what color that is. Jake's seen the sea. Jake's seen a lot of things. Good boy gone bad. He was born back East, I still don't really know how he ended up out here. I ask him but he smiles and shakes his head and won't tell me. He's on his way, I can feel it.

It's been raining, I can smell wet earth through the little window in my cell. Makes me feel sick. I don't want to be stuck in here. I want to be out there with Jake. We'd ride till nobody else was in sight, till there's only the stars to watch us. Then we'd make camp, Jake's real good at lighting fires now. After supper we'd roll up in our blankets and he'd talk. I talk sometimes too, tell him stories 'bout things I did before I met him. Not much to say though, so most times I let him do the talking.

The deputy's watchin' me, don't know what he's looking for. Maybe he's never seen a condemned man before, he only looks about eighteen. Perhaps he thinks I'm gonna start cryin' or something. Should I say a prayer, maybe? Would that make him think he's seen a bad man lookin' for redemption?

There's stars out now, I can see 'em through my window. I don't say a prayer, don't much care for 'em. I figure if there is a God, he's been ignoring me since I was born. Don't see the sense in talking to him now. Not like I'm going to swing in the morning anyway. Jake'll be here before then and that baby deputy will either be dead or running home to his momma. Neither thought worries me. Guess I am a bad man after all.

I pull my hat down over my eyes and remember the jails I've pulled Jake out of. Tombstone was the worst, took me four days to get him out. Good thing they were waiting for a Marshall to come get him, I could've lost him then. I hate Tombstone. Never going there again. Laredo, Wichita, Laramie, damn, it's a longer list than I thought. Maybe we should lay low for a while. Seems like everywhere we go these days there's some wanted poster shouting to the world that they can take us in and get a reward. Between the law and bounty hunters we ain't safe anywhere. But then I guess that's as it should be. We're outlaws, good men and women are afraid of us. Guess it's only fair we live in fear.

To tell the truth, I like the fear. Makes me feel alive. Don't know that Jake likes it too much, but then he thinks about it a lot. Thinking ain't good for anyone. I do it too much as well, should really stop it. Only time I stop thinking is when I'm with Jake and there's nobody around. Then I can kiss him and make myself forget all the crap that goes with life. Feelin' his hands on me...I can't explain how it feels, never learned the words. Maybe I am simple, but when he's with me, everything's okay. Everything will be okay now, 'cause he's on his way.

The time passes slowly, or maybe it's goin' fast. I don't know, don't have a watch. Really should steal one. The stars pass out of sight, night's fading already. I don't sleep, don't want to be groggy when Jake gets here. If he doesn't make it, I'll get all the sleep I'll ever need. But he'll make it. He won't leave me.

I wonder how he'll do it. He's not much of a one for bursting in, guns blazing. He'll kill when he has to but he doesn't like it. He'll sulk for days after he shoots someone. Won't let me touch him, won't talk to me. As though it's my fault, I've never made him pull the damn trigger. Sometimes he pisses me off. But I guess that's part and parcel of being alive. I'd rather have him mad at me than be on my own.

The sky's got that strange look it gets when night's just about to give up and change into dawn. It's starting to lighten a little bit, just enough to let Jake see what he's doing but not enough to make it easy for a posse to track us out of town. I shift on my rough blanket, push my hat back off of my eyes a bit. I love my hat. Jake got it for me when we first met. My old one got a bullet hole in it, he got me this one. Says it suits me real well.

I'm hungry, guess my stomach doesn't know it might be dead in a few hours. But I'm not worried, Jake'll get me out of here before they have chance to drag me out to that gallows.

Finally I hear a horse. Slow hoofbeats on the street behind the jail. I know it's Jake just like I know the sun will rise whether I'm alive to see it or not. I sit up a little straighter, don't want the baby deputy to notice me. But the boy's too busy looking out at the main street, probably waitin' for someone to come and relieve him. He's got no eyes for me, why worry about a man stuck behind bars? I glare at the stupid iron, hate bars, hate being trapped. My one real fear is one day me and Jake will both be caught at the same time. Can't even think how it'd hurt to see Jake in jail with me alongside him. Then who'd save us?

I shake the worry off. Jake's not here with me, he's out there, doing something to get me out. I have more faith in Jake than in anything else in this whole damn world.

A faint scraping noise on the wall beside me makes me look up at the barred window. A whisper, so faint I think I've imagined it, makes me hide a smile.

"Cougar?"

I yawn and stretch, he'll know it means there's someone close enough to hear me reply to him. The deputy looks over at me, I nod and smile. He curls his lip in disgust and turns away again. I shrug, doesn't matter what anyone thinks of me. Jake's here.

I suddenly remember being a kid. I'd just gotten out of the orphanage, I was out on my own for the first time. I found a stream heaving with fish just begging to be caught, made myself a fire and had supper. First meal I ever got for myself. It was a beautiful evenin', the sun was still warm on my back and I felt like everything was all right. I was happy. Now, knowing Jake's on the other side of the wall, I feel the same.

A tiny noise overhead makes me look up. A piece of string's slowly being fed through the bars of the window. Tied up in it is a stone, there's a note wrapped around it. I grimace, I can read but I don't like it. Makes my head hurt. But right now I'd rather have an aching head than a stretched neck, so I yawn again and pretend to stretch out my arms. Grabbing the stone's the work of a moment, it's hidden before the deputy even looks at me. I lie down, turn my back on the kid, facing the wall which separates me from Jake. Unwrapping the paper from the stone ain't easy, to my ears it makes a hell of a noise. But the deputy must be deaf as a post or just don't care 'bout anything, 'cause he doesn't so much as flinch.

'Get under the bunk. Close your eyes.'

I smile into the blanket. Jake talks a lot but he knows when to use less words. When it's my neck on the line, I'm grateful he's got sense enough to shut the hell up and get on with it.

Getting off this damn bed will make the deputy look at me but hopefully Jake's thought of that. I shove the paper and stone into my pocket, you never know when either things might come in handy. I can hear scuffling and movement on the other side of the wall. Maybe Jake's not wasting any time. I think I know what he's got planned.

To hell with worrying about the deputy, I slide off the bed and crawl underneath it, curling into a tight ball. My eyes are so tight shut I can see pretty colors dancing behind my eyelids. I put my hands over my ears, if Jake's gonna do what I'd do if it was him in this cell, it's about to get very loud.

There's a hissing, popping noise for a minute and I smile again. Sometimes I love the sound of a burning fuse. God only knows how much dynamite Jake used on the window but most of the wall suddenly collapses. Luckily it goes outwards and doesn't crush me. The deputy yelps like a scalded cat and runs out the front door, probably headin' home to find his momma. For a moment I wonder what my momma was like, whether she'd have been proud of me. Probably not.

"Cougar!"

I'd know that voice anywhere, so I look up. There's Jake, dusty and dirty and lookin' scared as heck. Eyes are still blue as the sky though.

"Cougar, shit, Cougar, you okay? Come on, Cougs, we gotta go, come on, move!"

He's tugging on my arm, trying to get me out from under the bed.

"'M comin'," I mumble, grabbing my hat from under a pile of bricks. Getting up ain't as easy as it should be. I look down and must admit to being a mite surprised to see a gash half a foot long in my right thigh.

"Did I do that?" Jake throws me a quick glance before climbing back out of the cell he just destroyed.

"Yeah," I say.

"Good." He grins at me, but his eyes are hard and dangerous. "If it was them, I'd be forced to go and have words."

I think he means if the sheriff or the deputies had done it, he'd be on his way to hurt 'em right now. I smile back, everything's all right now. Jake's here and I'm free. The gallows might see business in the morning but it won't be my boots the hangman walks home with.

"Horses?" I grunt. Shit, walking hurts more than I thought it would. I'm limping like a damn cripple and Jake has to slow down to let me catch up. Usually I'm the one out in front, I'm smaller than Jake so I'm the fast one. He's the one with the muscle.

"End of the street," he says. I notice the gun in his hand and limp faster. He ain't one for showing off, if he's got a gun in his hand, he thinks he might have to use it. An' that means he'll be shooting at the men chasing us.

"Left my guns back there," I say. Without a weight on each hip I feel more naked than when I'm lying on a blanket with only Jake's smile to cover me from prying eyes.

"No time," Jake snaps. "I'll buy you new guns, next town, promise."

I nod. A promise from Jake's enough for me. Still feel naked though.

We're finally close enough for me to smell the horses. Jake more or less pushes me up onto one of 'em.

"Go," he hisses. "Right behind you."

I don't wait for anything else, I kick my horse into movement and lie flat along her neck as she bolts forward. The wind whips at my face and makes my eyes water. My hair's too long, it's flying everywhere. I'd cut it but Jake says he likes it and I like it when he touches it, so it'll stay long, annoying though it is.

I chance a quick look behind me. Jake's right there, as flat on his horse's neck as I am on mine. He's smiling again and I swear I hear him laugh. The main street of Abilene flashes past, stores and saloons blurring into one long line of greyness.

I think I can hear frantic hoofbeats and yells behind us but I don't look back again. If they're chasing us, they're chasing us. Seeing it won't help. I'm good at disappearing, I'll make me and Jake invisible soon enough. We'll haul ass to somewhere quiet out in the sticks and lie low for as long as it takes. We can live off what we find. I've eaten grass before, we won't starve now.

Shots ring out, loud and flat in the quiet night-time air. I duck lower, even though I know the chances of a man on horseback shooting well enough to hit me are pretty damn scarce. The buildings are thinning out now, less an' less of 'em as the town dwindles. Pretty soon we'll be out and flying toward more open country. We can hide there, won't be easy what with Kansas being somewhat lacking in trees an' such, but I know how to vanish, I'll find us somewhere.

A few more guns bark behind me and I feel my blood sing as I realize we're getting away. They can't catch us, we've got too much of a lead on 'em. It's a good feeling.

One more sharp gunshot shatters the darkness and I hear something I hoped I'd never hear. Jake's voice, high and tight with pain and surprise. I look over my shoulder, damn hair whipping in my eyes again. He's still on his horse, thank God. But he's slumped over to one side and he's got a hand pressed hard to his shoulder.


	3. Chapter 3

"Jake!" I yell, not surprised that I sound panic stricken.

"Go on!" he shouts back, but I can hear the catch in his voice. "I'm okay, keep going!"

I don't want to go on, I want to turn back and kill every one of the bastards who are still following us. One of 'em shot Jake, don't care which one it was, I'd kill 'em all. But I know Jake would tell me if he couldn't stay on his horse any longer. If he says go on, go on. He's not an idiot, he'll tell me when he's hurting. Right now I'm hurting, but it's fury which burns me, not the sickening pain of a bullet in my body.

So I urge my mare to a faster pace and wish I'd learned how to pray back in the orphanage. I'd sell anything I have to make sure Jake's okay. But all I have left is my soul and I figure the devil's already got first call on that.

It's darker out here, away from the town. The lights on the street ain't much but once they're gone I appreciate just how dark it really gets at night. I like nighttime. It's comforting, cozy even. Wraps round me like a mother would wrap her arms round her little one. Least I think that's what it's like, don't think anyone ever did that with me. Except Jake. Jake keeps the scary part of the dark at bay. Maybe I do the same for him. I don't know, might ask him one day.

Behind us the thump of hooves on the packed dirt road fades, I throw another glance over my shoulder and see that the men chasing us are giving up. They pull up their horses, wheel 'em round and head back to town. I can imagine their disgust at losing me again. I don't care.

I slow my mare a little and try to see Jake. I can hear him, his breathing's almost as loud as his horse's. He's sucking in great gulps of air, fighting the pain probably. But he's still breathing, which is the important part. Long as he's breathing, I'll do everything I can to fix the rest.

"Jake?" I call quietly, just in case anyone decided to follow us. Not that a sane man would follow two outlaws into the dark. Hell, I wouldn't do it. Lawmen deserve more credit really, they're brave bastards. Or maybe they're just a bit crazy.

Jake doesn't reply, just grunts a little. I want to stop, more than anything I want to drag him off that damned horse and make sure he's okay. But we can't stop yet, not far enough from town. They might be giving up on chasing us in the dark but I wouldn't be surprised if someone comes after us at first light. If we stopped now, anyone who did come wouldn't have to work too hard to find us and I ain't going back to jail, no way.

So I whisper to my mare, rub her neck and try to quiet the bubbling in my stomach. I'm scared, I can admit it. Scared of getting caught, scared of going back to a jail cell, scared of makin' a fool of myself on the way to the gallows. But I'm most scared that one day I'll wake up and be on my own. That'd be worse than all the other things put together.

In front of me, my horse's ears flicker back and forth, she can tell I'm close to panicking. I murmur nonsense to her and hope she knows where she's going. I sure as hell don't. The pain in my leg is getting worse, taking more of my attention and I'm leavin' it to her to choose where we go. I sway in my saddle, feelin' woozy and faint. Damn, must have lost more blood than I thought. Blood, Jake, bleeding, shoulder, bullet. Shit.

I feel like I've been ridin' forever, like I'm gonna spend the rest of eternity just plodding, hopin' nobody's following us. Maybe I will. Maybe I'm already dead, this could be Purgatory. I look around but it's so dark I can't see a thing. Maybe that's what hell is, all a man's worst fears hiding in the dark, jus' waiting to jump out at him. There's a soft noise behind me, Jake, tryin' not to groan as his horse moves too sharp and jars his shoulder. Nah, not Purgatory. If it was, he wouldn't be here with me. We're still in the land of the living. For now.

My eyes are stinging and feel like somebody threw a handful o'grit into 'em. I sigh and rub at 'em, knowing full well the only thing that'll help is sleep. But I can't sleep yet, gotta get us someplace safe and take a look at Jake. Could probably do with wrapping my own leg up too, my pants are wet with blood and I can feel my pulse throbbin' round the edges of the gash. Lord knows how Jake's managin' to ride, his shoulder must be burnin' like hell.

The mare suddenly sways more and her hooves sink into softer ground. I clutch at the reins and curse. We've hit a river, I never even noticed it, how did that happen? I'm thinking too much again. Not payin' enough attention to what's around me. Out here that can get you killed.

Everythin's still dark but I think I can see that the land's a little less flat now. Not by much but there are a few dips and hollows along the course of the river, I remember that from the last time we passed this way. One o' them might do as a resting place till first light, won't be the best hiding spot ever but it'll do, it'll be enough to let me look at Jake.

"Jake?" I call, not knowing what else to say. I want to ask whether he's okay, whether the bullet passed through or is still wedged in his shoulder someplace, I want to tell him to not even think about leavin' me. But the words get stuck in my throat and I can't force them out.

"Yeah," he sounds tired. I can't blame him. Gettin' shot really takes it out of a man. I'm ready to keel over too, best get ourselves into some kind of cover as soon as we can.

"River," I say, and sweep my hand around in a gesture that could mean anything.

"Yeah," Jake mutters again.

I take a deep breath. Jake talks. All the time. Drives me to distraction sometimes, he just won't shut up. When he's quiet...well, it ain't good.

"Not long now," I say, not really sure what I'm promising.

"'m okay," is the only reply I get.


	4. Chapter 4

Gettin' Jake off his horse leaves us both sweating and shaking. My leg's not great, it's painful to put much weight on and throbbing like hell. Jake's still quiet and he's got his eyes shut. Damn.

The hollow we're in ain't gonna be much shelter when the sun comes up but for now it makes me feel like we're safe.

Should I make a fire? It's a risk but I need somethin' to keep Jake warm. It's not a cold night but he's still shakin'. So am I. I can't keep my hands still, so I ball 'em into fists and dig my nails into my palms. Deep breath, I tell myself. Deep breath, get yourself back together and help Jake. It ain't like this is the first time either of us have gotten in the way of a bullet. I rub the mark on my left arm where a slug almost did some real damage. Jake helped me then, now it's my turn.

I drag Jake's saddlebags off of his horse and throw most of the stuff out of 'em. Finally I come across his tinder pouch. There's a little bundle of dry twigs and thin sticks there too, wrapped in oilskin. Jake's a believer in being prepared for the worst, I've been grateful for his little bag of tricks more times than I care to remember. It's often been the only thing between us freezing to death and wakin' up alive the next morning.

It don't take long before I have a nice homey little fire going, but the twigs won't last long and Jake needs all the warmth I can give him.

"Gonna get some more firewood," I say. I'm still whispering, but I'm not really sure why. I can't see whether Jake nods or even looks at me, it's still too dark. Another reason I need the fire, I hate not being able to see him. Guess that's what comes of always bein' just one step ahead of people who want to hang us, I get a little jittery from time to time. I like to be able to see what's coming and know I have a way to either fight it or escape. After all, he who fights and runs away, as the saying goes.

I stumble away from Jake, the river's pretty low at the moment so I can follow it without wondering whether I'm gonna get my feet wet. Before long I come upon an old gnarled tree, it looks like it's seen too many winters, maybe it won't mind me takin' a few branches to keep us warm. I don't have anything but Jake's knife to hack at the tree with and I take a moment to mourn the loss of my own saddlebags back in town. My hatchet was in there and my spare clothes, my ammo, a little food. My knife was stuck down my boot but I lost that along with my guns when they dragged me to jail. I miss my guns. Would it be too stupid to go back for 'em? Yeah, probably.

With nothing else to hand, I go on hacking at the lowest branches with Jake's knife. He'll be mad that I've blunted it but hell, what else can I do? Concentrating on a job makes me calm down sometimes but not tonight. I'm too wound up, all I can think about is how Jake sounded when that damn bullet hit him. Without knowing what I'm doing, I find myself curled up at the base of the tree, my arms wrapped round my knees. Someone's making strange, desperate gasping noises, takes me a minute to realize it's me.

"Calm down, you sorry son of a bitch," I mutter. My voice is thin and reedy, shit, I gotta get a hold on myself, can't let Jake see me like this. It'd most likely scare him but he'll make fun of me for days too, he always thinks it's kind of funny when I get frightened. Don't know why, what does he think I am, some kind of hero? I'm just a man, same as everyone else. Everybody gets scared sometimes, if they say they don't they're either soft in the head or a damned liar. I get scared more often these days. Seems to me I have more to lose than before I met Jake. Someone once told me, 'the minute you love, the world has a weapon to use against you'. Pretty fancy words, too fancy for someone like me but they're true.

Rustling in the grass around me reminds me that I'm not alone out here. I need to get back to Jake, he's hurt and I'm sittin' here thinking 'bout how frightened I get. Idiot. Somehow I've managed to collect a decent armful of dry-ish wood so I carefully retrace my steps, hoping I don't miss Jake in the dark.

He's still awake when I find him, his eyes are open and he manages to crack a smile when he sees me. I don't know why but that smile does me some good, for a minute I forget that we're hiding for our lives, we're both hurt and we have to move come daylight. I smile back and say, "Hi."

Jake doesn't reply, still a bad sign. Means he's in more pain than he wants to admit or he's hurt real bad and he doesn't want me to see he's worried. The round hit him in the shoulder, so hopefully he ain't in a lot of danger but still, I gotta get the wound cleaned up and stop the bleeding. I seen too many good men die of wounds gone bad. I sniff and bite back the curses I want to send raining down on the bastards who chased us. Whoever shot Jake should die a thousand deaths. If Jake dies 'cause of this, I'll go back there and kill every one of 'em.

The wood smokes a little when I add it to the fire, but soon catches and flares brightly. I'm good at this kind of thing, survivin' out here in the middle of nowhere. Feel more at home here than ever I do in a town. Maybe I like it 'cause there's less people. Just me and Jake, that's enough. Any more folks and it's too many.

Jake's eyes are slitted against the glow of the fire, I can see sweat on his forehead. His hair's stained dark with it, I hate that. His hair's the brightest yellow I've ever seen. It's a pain in the ass when we're tryin' to hide but damn, when the sun hits it...I can't find the words.

"We okay?" his voice is low and husky, almost slurred but not quite.

"Yeah, we're okay," I reply, trying to keep my own voice from shaking. "They gave up chasin' us. We're not worth getting lost and dying alone out here, I guess."

"Gotta do somethin' 'bout that," Jake says, that half-smile back on his lips. "Anybody'd think we're just a couple of penny-ante crooks, not worth chasin'. I got a reputation to think about, ya know."

"Shut up," I say and bend to try to get his coat off so I can see his wound. I know he doesn't mean it, he hates having a price on his head as much as I do. He's just talkin' to try to calm me down. When we're not both bleeding, I'll thank him properly for that.

Jake winces as the coat leaves his shoulder, I bite my lip as I see just how stained it is. He's lost more blood than I thought. Hell. He swallows noisily and says, "Go on then, Doc, get me fixed up."

My throat feels thick and uncomfortable, I don't mind seein' blood, but the sight of so much of Jake's is making my stomach do bad things. I force a weak smile and nod. "Sure."

There's an exit wound just below Jake's collar bone, 'least the bullet ain't still in there. "Gotta pack this," I mutter, already shrugging off my too-thin coat and reachin' for my shirt. Maybe we should carry some bandages with us, given how often one or both of us winds up hurt. But for now, strips of my shirt will have to do. Maybe Jake will let me borrow his spare one.

I run down to the river again and wet a couple of strips, that'll have to do to clean the wound, the dry stuff I'll use to try to stop the bleeding.

Jake's got his eyes shut again and his teeth are sunk in his bottom lip. I'm tryin' to be careful about dabbing away the blood round the wound but it's hurtin' anyway.

"Here," I say and hand him a stick. "Bite on that." I don't say that I'm worried he'll bite straight through his lip and leave scars, he'd probably just laugh at me.

Jake curses and tries to squirm away from the pain as I pack the little strips of shirt into the hole in his shoulder. I lean on him and try to hold him still. I know it hurts like hell, from personal experience I know, but I still need to do it. He calls me every name under the sun, I probably deserve 'em. After all, this is all my fault. If we'd just avoided Abilene in the first place, none of this would've happened, would it?

I finish wrapping a longer strip of fabric round his shoulder, passing it under his armpit and hoping it'll keep the packing in place for a while. With another piece I fashion a makeshift sling, just tying it into a loop and hanging it round Jake's neck, then resting his wrist in it. Maybe if we keep his arm still for a while, it might have a better chance of healing.

"God," Jake pants, his eyes wide. I can see stars reflected in 'em. It's beautiful. My own eyes flutter shut for a moment and I come back to myself lying on my face on the ground.

"Cougar?" Jake's saying, he sounds too young, too worried. "Cougs? You all right?"

"Yeah," I manage to say, though it takes a lot more effort than it should. I rest on my nose for a second, breathing in the scent of the earth. Then I push myself upright and wait for the world to stop spinning so fast.

"Your leg?" Jake asks. His face is drawn and pinched with pain. He looks tired and a lot younger than usual.

I nod and look down at the long gash in my thigh. Damn. Gotta get that bandaged up before I go and bleed to death. I poke at it and realize that it's mostly stopped bleeding now, luckily. The blood's startin' to dry on my pants, they'll be stuck to the edges of the wound before long, it'll be agony to get 'em off. As fast as I can, with the world still whirling crazily round me, I push my pants down and try to make my eyes work properly so I can see how bad the damage is to my leg.

It's nasty but not that bad. Just a gash, not too deep but long enough to have let all that blood mess up my clothes. Damn it all, I don't have any other pants. I wipe a hand over my face, I'm still sweating. Jake's lookin' at me with those big eyes he gets when he's worried.

"'m okay," I mutter. "Jus' gotta get this cleaned up. Get some rest."

"No," he says harshly. "Hold on, I'll go get something wet to clean you up."

"Jake," I begin, intendin' to make him stay where he is if I have to tie him to his saddle or something. But he just looks at me and I lose my words. "Okay," I say softly. "Don't move your arm."

He flashes me a smile which doesn't reach his eyes and vanishes into the darkness. I don't hear him moving toward the river, he's a big guy but he can move like a cat when he wants to. Maybe he should be the one named Cougar.

Some boys in the orphanage gave me my name, they said I could jump like a mountain lion and was about as quiet, too. I like it, sometimes I forget what my real name is. Carlos Alvarez. Wonder whether Alvarez was my father's name or whether my momma just made it up before she left me. Guess I'll never know, so it's no use thinkin' about it.

Jake's suddenly back in the circle of light from the fire, I jump and mutter a curse. I really need to get some rest before I start missin' important things. Next time it could be a deputy or someone else bent on draggin' our sorry wounded asses back to town. My eyelids start to get heavy again, I'm so damn tired, even cleanin' up my leg seems like too much effort.

"For God's sake, get on with it," Jake mumbles and starts tryin' to wipe the worst of the blood away from the gash. I wince and hiss as he pokes at very sore flesh. "Stop being a baby," he says, but there's a smile in his voice.

"Says you," I reply, staring up at the stars so he can't see the sweat pouring down my face. "You moaned like a kid not too long ago, too."

"I've got a bullet hole in my shoulder," Jake says, patiently wiping away more blood, trying not to move his bad arm more than he has to. "You just got in the way of a wall. My injuries are more heroic than yours."

"A wall you blew up," I pant, then screw my eyes shut. God, this really kind of hurts. "Your fault."

"Yeah, well," Jake sounds a little rueful, "I couldn't think of any other way to get you out. That jail was a bitch. No way in at the front, I had to go round back and hope you were somewhere closeby."

"Nearly blew me up as well as the wall," I say.

"I know. Sorry." Jake's got clever fingers, he's wrapping a dry strip of shirt round my thigh now. It barely hurts at all.

I chance a look down and see that he's concentrating on my leg, his tongue stickin' out of his mouth like a kid thinking real hard about his lessons. Running my fingers over his cheek seems like the most natural thing in the world.

"'s okay," I say quietly. Words never come easy at times like these, Jake knows it and smiles. "Thanks for comin' to get me."

He looks up, right at me. I leave my fingers on his cheek, don't want to let go just yet.

"No problem," he says. "I'd come get you wherever you were."

For a minute I envy him, he can say things like that without it seemin' to cost him a thing. I get even halfway close to thinkin' that stuff, my throat closes up and all the words get jumbled in my head. But then I smile. Maybe that's why we're good together. He talks, I do. Two halves of a whole.

I tangle my fingers in his hair, it needs cutting, he likes to keep it short, and pull him up towards me. He smells of sweat and blood and fear and horses, maybe with a little whiff of dynamite underneath it all.

"Thanks," I mutter again, then lean forward and kiss him.


	5. Chapter 5

I don't know what wakes me, but the minute my eyes are open, I turn my head to look at Jake. He's sweatin' and shaking again, he's asleep, but he ain't havin' good dreams. I rest my hand on his forehead and bite back a curse. He's too warm. Damn fevers, they jump you and don't let go.

Morning's on the way. I look at the lighter part on the eastern horizon, won't be long before the sun's up. Our little hollow won't hide us from anyone then. We gotta move.

Flexing my leg makes me hiss and clutch at it. Damn, that hurts. For a minute I just lie back on the blanket I'm sharing with Jake and close my eyes. How did we get into shit this bad? And just what am I going to do to get us out of it? I don't know. I'm used to having no direction in mind when I start riding but this is starting to scare me.

Beside me, Jake mumbles something and thrashes around a little. His hand catches me on my bad leg and I swear. I roll away, then look back at him. His hair's wet with sweat again and his cheeks are too flushed. I want to check his shoulder but if I undo the bandage, I don't have anythin' else to cover the wound with. Jake moans and turns his head away. I scramble to my feet and head to the river. I can do a lot of things, things most people might find a little unpleasant, but I can't watch Jake get sick in front of me and just do nothing.

Splashing water on my face wakes me up a little more, clears my head enough to let me think. We need to keep moving, just in case anyone decides to come after us in daylight. I need to get Jake to a doctor, that shoulder needs lookin' at and he needs somethin' for the fever. My hands are shaking as I fill Jake's canteen. We're in the middle of nowhere and I need a doctor. What do I do? Which direction do I head in? We've been in Kansas before but it's a damn big place, by the time I get to a town big enough to have a medicine man...I cut the thought off before it gets started. I'm not losing Jake to a fever.

I head back to our little camp, it looks a bit sad, last night it looked cozy. Now, with dawn chasing me, I can see that I threw stuff everywhere when I was going through Jake's saddlebags, there's bits of my shirt blowing around in the breeze and the horses have wandered too far in the night. Must've not tied 'em up properly. Idiot. Jake's still asleep, still shiverin'. I grit my teeth and get to work getting us ready to move.

It's a chilly morning and I pull my coat tighter round me. I stole Jake's spare shirt last night, seeing as he's using mine on his shoulder, seemed like the least he could do. It's too big but it's warm and it feels kind of nice to be wearing it. I won't tell him that, he'd pull a face and call me a sentimental fool. I like it when he uses big words, reminds me that he came from out East, so maybe there's a chance he won't die here in the dust of the West. Me, I figure I was born out here and this is where I'll find my end. Doesn't really bother me that much, long as I'm with Jake.

We don't have anything much in the way of food but I find some jerky in the saddlebags and chew on it, maybe if I pretend it's the best steak, it'll taste better. Now's the time I've been tryin' to avoid, I need to get Jake up and movin'.

Shakin' him doesn't do much, he just mumbles and tries to shove me away. I hold him harder and talk right into his face.

"Jake? C'mon, buddy, we need to move. Wake up, come on, open your eyes. Jake? Come on..."

I keep talkin' till finally he opens his eyes and looks at me. He's pissed and sore and more than a little crazy with fever but he knows it's me. I smile, even when we're in trouble, those eyes are always good to see.

"Come on," I say, tryin' to heave him up onto his feet. "We ain't safe here, we need to get movin'."

He nods and tries to talk but his throat's dry as dust. I steady his head while he tips the canteen to his lips. When he tries again, he's got his voice back. "I know. Where are we?"

"Don't know," I reply, "couple miles outside Abilene? But we need to get further away and we gotta find a doctor."

"No, don't need a doctor," Jake's usin' his 'don't argue with me' voice. Well, for once I'm gonna argue, damn it.

"If you don't, I do, my leg's hurtin' like hell and your shoulder can't be much better," I say roughly, checkin' the saddles are firm on the horses. When I look at Jake again, he's sittin' down, resting his head in his hands. I know how he feels, fevers hit me often enough. But now ain't the time to be gentle, right now we need to not be here. I grip his good shoulder and shake him a little.

"Jake, we gotta move. If anyone from town finds us, we'll both be back in jail 'fore the day's out."

He nods and sighs like he's been up all night. "I know. Okay, let's go. Any idea where we head or do we just pick a direction and go?"

I smile ruefully. "Pick and go sounds best."

He grins, but it ain't his usual smile. Too tired and worn out. "Yeah. Okay. C'mon, help me up on this foul-tempered thing."

He's got a point, the horse he came to find me on has a temper worse than mine when I've been drinkin' all night. It snorts and stomps and glares at me as I push Jake up onto its back.

Gettin' up into my own saddle's a mite easier but my leg still hurts like the very devil, it's gone to a deep throbbing ache now that the bleeding's stopped. I had to pull my pants on over the top of the makeshift bandage, they're covered in blood but they'll have to do, Jake doesn't have any spare ones for me to steal. I catch him lookin' at me as I get myself comfortable.

"What?"

"Nothing," he looks down and smiles. "You look like a criminal on the run from the law."

"Well, I am," I reply, not really sure why he's saying this.

"And your hair's a mess."

"Thanks."

"'m glad I'm not out here on my own."

Oh. I don't know what to say to that. Well, I know what I'd like to say, but it'd be too flowery comin' out of my mouth. So I settle for smilin' back a little and tipping my hat to him. Then I look round and try to decide whether any one direction is better than the others. Any seem good, as long as we're headed away from Abilene. I make sure the water bottle's full and get my mare movin'.


	6. Chapter 6

The sun's hotting up, I can feel sweat running down my neck beneath the collar of Jake's shirt. It'd be nice to just empty the canteen but we don't have enough water as it is, no point usin' it all so early in the day.

My mare ambles along, picking her way, yet again I'm lettin' her choose. I know Kansas a little, well, we've been chased through here a couple times, maybe I didn't pay as much attention to the map as I should have. Right now I'm just hopin' the mare knows where she's going and takes us to a town with someone who can look at Jake's shoulder.

I throw a glance back at him, he's on his horse but I'm not sure how. He don't look like himself, his eyes are too glazed, that damn fever's still tryin' to get to him. Somethin' cold fingers down my spine, making the sweat feel like the chilliest of river water on my skin. If I don't get us movin' faster, Jake might be in some bad trouble. My stomach bubbles at the thought and I kick my mare into a trot.

"C'mon," I call over my shoulder. "Need to move."

"I'm comin'," I hear Jake say. He's weary and sounds like his shoulder hurts. I grit my teeth, there's nothing I can do for him save get him to a doctor before the wound goes too bad and the fever really takes hold.

Sometime around noon we stumble across a pretty little creek, all lush green plants and babbling water. I slide out of my saddle and help Jake down from his. The horses are glad of the rest and to be honest, so am I. My leg's hurtin' pretty bad and I'm a little scared of lookin' at it, in case it's already started to go nasty. But Jake needs me to be in one piece and capable of lookin' after us, so that's what I do my best to do.

He says he ain't hungry but I make him eat some of the jerky and get some water down him. He throws me dirty looks all the time he's chewing, so I know he's not too bad with the fever just yet. I grin and make a show of enjoying my share of the food, unpleasant though it is. All too soon it's gone and I know we'll have to work harder for our next meal. Maybe tonight we can make a camp someplace and set a few snares, if we're lucky we might get a rabbit or something.

"Quit pushing me around," Jake mutters as I help him back onto his horse when we're done at the creek.

"Quit moaning and stay awake," I say, sharper than I intended. If he passes out and falls off the damn animal, I don't know that I'll be in any fit state to get him back onto it again. The throbbing in my leg is all I can think about, the flesh round the wound's hot and sore and I dread to think what it looks like.

"Yeah," Jake sighs. "I know. I'll try, promise."

Sometimes when he says things like that, 'promise', he sounds like a little kid making solemn vows to his momma to behave himself. I can't help but smile as I wonder what kind of plague he was to his family as a boy. He don't talk about them much, in truth I think he knows more about me than I do about him. Not that it matters, I know he's here because he wants to be and I know I'd happily die to keep him safe. Everythin' else can just go by the wayside.

"All right," I say, the catch in my voice is purely because I haven't drunk enough, no other reason, I'm sure of it. "Let's go."


	7. Chapter 7

We ride for the rest of the day. When the light finally goes and the world turns dark, we both more or less fall off our horses and make a pathetic little camp. Jake's face is shinin' with sweat and I can feel it prickling on my skin too. He slumps to the ground, not even botherin' to get his blanket. I bite my lip and hope there's actually a God up there who'll listen to a prayer from a bad man.

_Please don't let Jake die, I think. Let me get him to a doctor and let him live. That's all I'm asking, please, if you're as kind as people have always told me, please, let me have this one thing._

"Stop worrying," Jake's voice is low and dry and not at all like it should be. "I'm okay, keep tellin' ya. Jus' a little under the weather at the moment."

"Yeah, I know," I reply, not meaning it. I grab the water bottle from my saddle and toss it to him. "Here, keep drinkin', maybe it'll help."

He nods tiredly and takes a swig. By the time I've got the horses tied up for the night and set out a couple snares, he's asleep. Judgin' by the way he's muttering and twitchin' again, the bad dreams are back.


	8. Chapter 8

The next day is pretty much the same. The horses choose where we go, I spend my time worryin' about Jake and wondering what the hell we're going to do. Jake's goin' between sweating and shakin' and talking as he normally does. I'm stuck, I don't have anything to give him to ease the fever when it gets worse and I can't do much beyond try to keep his wound clean.

I'm ignoring the pain in my own leg 'cause if I admit it hurts, I might not be able to think about anythin' else and I need to think. I need to figure out where the hell we're goin'. If we just keep wanderin' around out here, we'll both be dead before the week's out.

It's past noon, I can tell that much from the way the sun's burnin' the back of my neck. I pull the tie out of my hair and try to cover as much skin back there as I can, but seein' as it's already sore, it's pretty much a wasted effort. Jake's swayin' on his horse, he looks terrible. I check the water bottle but we've already drunk half of it, damn.

Then I see it, a smudge on the horizon which could be a town, or might just be my imagination. I know I'm fightin' a fever of my own, so I'm not trusting my eyes right now. Behind me, Jake shifts in his saddle and says, "Is that...?"

I nod, "I think so."

"Thank God," Jake sighs. "I was beginning to think we might be out here forever."

What he means is he was starting to wonder whether I'd bury him in Kansas dust. I'm grateful he didn't say it, even thinkin' it is enough to give me the shakes.

"Need to find a doctor," I say, fumbling with the mare's reins. "You up to movin' a little faster?"

"I will if you will," Jake replies. He grins and I'm glad he can still make the effort to do that, makes me feel better. "Race you there."

It's hardly a race, neither of us are in the best of shape and I can see Jake wincing as his horse trots. To tell the truth it's shakin' the hell out of my leg and I can't wait to get off this stupid creature but every step is one closer to salvation, so I grit my teeth and take the pain.

By the time we reach the outskirts of the town, Jake's pale and clammy and looks like he's fightin' to keep what food we managed to get, in his stomach.

I look around as the bare, open country gives way to buildings and people. A sign on one of the stores proclaims that we're in Hays City. That's good, I know Hays is fairly big and busy, one of the main cowtowns hereabouts. I ain't been here before, but that's a good thing too, hopefully there won't be anybody out lookin' to drag us in for the bounty on our heads.

With so many people around surely there's a doctor someplace nearby, I just need to track him down. Jake's got his hand pressed over his mouth, he looks awful. Panic suddenly hits me, I'm the only one who'll help him, all the responsibility's with me, there's nobody else who'll care whether he's alive or dead.

"Jake?" I say, wanting him to grin and tell me he's okay, or at least curse at me and ask why it's taking me so long to find a doctor. But he doesn't, he just grips his saddle so hard with his free hand his knuckles go white. He's swayin' again and I'm scared he'll be off that horse in a minute. "Stay there," I say, sliding off my own. "I'll be back, just...stay there, okay? I'll get help. Just wait here, all right?"

He nods and blinks a lot, I think he's trying to make himself think round the fever, it ain't easy, I'm doin' it too. Takes a lot of effort. Throwin' him my mare's reins, I stumble toward the first saloon I see. There might not be a doctor in there, but there's a good chance someone will know where I can find him.


	9. Chapter 9

I turn before I've gone a dozen steps and stagger back to Jake. Dragging his gun out of its holster takes more effort than I'd admit to but I ain't going anywhere unarmed. It's probably just me bein' dumb and worryin' too much, but I know how fast fights can start when there's liquor and boys who've been riding for a painful long time. I don't want to be caught without a way to defend myself. Jake's gun feels wrong in my hand and for a moment I wonder whether I could go back to Abilene for my own, then realize it's the fever talkin'. He said he'd get me new ones, he promised. I trust him but I need to get him well before he's in any state to buy anything.

It's humid and sweaty inside, the smell of unwashed humans is almost as bad as the cattle over in the stockyard. But I'm not exactly a picture myself at the moment, I catch a glimpse of my face in the mirror which hangs behind the bar. Damn, I look awful. My beard's growing out too much, my hair's all over the place and I've got a wild look in my eyes. I don't blame the bartender for lookin' worried when I approach.

"I need a doctor," I say, my voice is little more than a rasp, I doubt he can even hear me. I clear my throat and try again. "Is there a doctor in town? My friend...he needs some help."

"I don't sell directions, friend," the man says, holdin' up a whiskey bottle. "I sell this stuff. You want help, you're gonna have to pay for it."

I glare at him but slap a coin down on the bartop. "There. Now, where do I go for a doctor?"

He shrugs as he pours me a drink. "I don't know, ain't been here long, myself. Guess you could try askin' at the sheriff's place, suppose they might know where to find one."

I make a sound that's closer to a sob than a laugh and reach for the whiskey. The sheriff's place, yeah, that's really where I'm gonna go. They might not know us here, but there's a chance there'll be some of those damn wanted posters nearby. I close my eyes for a minute and just rest against the bar. A deep voice next to me makes me jump, I have to stop payin' so little attention to what's goin' on around me.

"I'm not a doctor, but I know something about healing, I'd be happy to take a look at your friend."

I look up at the guy, he smiles at me. I smile back, or at least try to, but it feels like the skin of my cheeks is stretched too tight, I'm too wound up and scared witless that I'll be too late to help Jake. A few blinks later, I find the man holdin' me up. Shit, must've almost passed out for a minute.

"Hey," he says softly, "you're okay. I got'cha. Guess your friend's not the only one who needs help, huh?" His teeth are very white in his dark face, and his voice is so low it rumbles through me. His eyes are kind and I find myself hopin' I can trust him.

"I'm Nathan," he says. He's got big hands, I'm glad of that 'cause my legs ain't workin' so well right now. He's the only thing stoppin' me sliding onto the floor.

"Cougar," I mutter. "M'name's Cougar." I fight to get my feet back under me. "M'friend, Jake, outside. Gunshot, shoulder."

"All right," he says, he's really got a nice voice, confident and calm, I find myself driftin' off for a minute. "Let's go. You okay to take me to him?"

I nod and manage to stand up on my own. I'm just about to take a step toward the door when two other men appear and stand behind Nathan.

"What're you doin'?" one of 'em asks him. This guy's got short blond hair and looks like he knows all about how hard life can be out here in the West. He's in black and I don't think I'd like to mess with him. But Nathan smiles at him, so he can't be all bad. He grins back and says, "You being a helping hand again?"

"This fellow needs help," Nathan says, "I might be able to do something, so I should, shouldn't I?"

"He always this kind-hearted?" the other man asks the guy in black. He's older, I think, there's more grey in his hair and beard, at least. Maybe he's just had a hard life. His voice is a rumble, the same as Nathan's, but he doesn't look as caring.

The first guy runs a hand through his hair, "Yep, he's our good samaritan. Helpin' folks left, right and center."

"What's up with this guy?" Grey-beard asks, lookin' at me.

"Says his friend's been shot and needs a little doctorin'," Nathan replied. "And I guess he could do with a rest himself, look at him."

I'm getting a little sick of people talkin' about me like I'm not right there in front of 'em. "Hey," I say weakly, "I'm here, you know. Jake's hurt, don't have time to talk, gotta help him."

I shrug off Nathan's hands and step forward but my leg ain't workin' at all now, there's a white-hot flash of pain round the gash and I find myself headin' toward the floor again.

More strong hands catch me and I find Grey-beard smiling into my face. "You keep doin' that, you're gonna get yourself thrown into jail for bein' drunk."

I flail a little, wantin' to push him away or maybe use him as a ladder to get myself upright again. In the end I don't manage to do either, so the blond guy helps out by slinging one of my arms over his shoulder and helpin' Grey-beard march me toward the door.

"I'm Chris, this is Clay," the blond says. "Nathan wants to help you, but I swear if this is anything like a trick, I'll kill you myself. Are we clear?"

I nod, I can't talk at the moment, my head's fuzzy and I think I'm relieved that I've finally gotten Jake some help. But I'm also in a hell of a lot of pain and I wish I'd drunk more of that whiskey.

"So how'd you come to get yourself in this mess?" Clay asks. He sounds amused, I can't say that I blame him. I'd probably think it was a little funny too, if a guy lookin' like me turned up in a saloon and almost passed out. I'd say the fellow needed to drink less. Right now I really wish I was just drunk on booze and not confused by a damn fever.

By the time Clay and Chris get me outside, Nathan's waitin' for us, looking impatient.

"Where's your friend?"

I nod toward Jake, he's somehow managed to get himself off his horse and now he's leaning against the hitching rail, looking like he might pass out at any minute.

"Please..." I say, but whatever I was going to follow it with doesn't matter, Nathan's already fussing over Jake. Relief hits me like a plank to the back of my head, I did it, I got Jake some help. I actually did something good for once. Maybe things might be all right now.

I suddenly realize I'm more tired than I think I've ever been in my life. The world swims around me, everythin' looks too far away. I can dimly hear Nathan sayin' somethin' about needing to get Jake somewhere quiet to have a good look at him, but I'm too busy passing out to reply.


	10. Chapter 10

Even before I wake up, I know we're not out on the street any longer. It's quieter and the sun isn't beatin' down on my head like it wants to boil my brains out of my ears. Shit, where am I? Where's Jake? I open my eyes and sit up, looking round, desperate to find him.

"Back in the land of the living, huh?" Clay still sounds amused. I wonder whether I have the strength left to glare at him, then decide it's not worth the effort.

"Jake," I croak. "Where's Jake?"

"Relax," Clay says and I notice there's...somethin' in his voice which means he kind of expects to have people do as he tells 'em. I tense up even more, who is this guy?

"Where's Jake?" I say again, tryin' to put the same iron into my tone.

"Nathan's with him," Clay replies. "I'm no doctor, but he looks pretty bad."

My heart sinks and I can't breathe all of a sudden. "I gotta see him." I swing my legs off the edge of the bed I'm lyin' on. When did I get onto a bed? I don't remember that. My thigh screams as I move it and I can't help but curse out loud.

"Hey," Clay pushes at my shoulders, "get back on there. Nathan says that leg's a mess, needs some lookin' after. Your friend's more in need right now, though. He'll come see you in a minute. Just stay still, okay?"

I wipe the back of my hand across my mouth. Everythin's spinning round me, can't think straight. Need to get to Jake. That's the only thing that matters. What was I thinkin'? Who the hell are these people? They could be gettin' ready to drag us to jail for all I know. I'm gasping and can't get any air in my lungs. Black spots are dancin' in front of my eyes as Clay puts a hand on the back of my neck and forces my head down between my knees.

"Just breathe, all right? You keep doin' that, you're gonna get Nathan running in here, ready to doctor the hell out of you. Then your friend won't get the help he needs, will he?

He's right, I close my eyes and make myself take good deep breaths. After a minute I reach up and push his hand away. "'M okay, now."

"Good," the smile's back in his voice again. Damn him. "So what're you doin' out here? No offence but you two don't look like cowhands. This is a cowtown, so how come you're here? And how did Jake get a bullet through his shoulder?"

I wet my lips and look anywhere but at Clay. He's got a right to ask, but I don't want to tell him anythin'. One thing I learned over the years is to keep lies out of the picture if you can, they get tangled and come back to bite you in the ass.

"All right," he laughs, as though he knows just what I'm thinkin'. "Tell me your name and I'll leave it at that. No more questions."

"Cougar," I mutter, damn I really need a drink, my throat's dry as dust. "M'name's Cougar."

"Like the cat?" Clay asks.

I nod, "Yeah."

"Good to meet you, Cougar," Clay holds out his hand and we shake. There's silence for a minute, then I hear Jake groan. I'm fightin' to get up on my feet before I know what I'm doing, cursin' the whole time, wishing to God I'd moved faster back in that stupid jail. If my leg was all right, maybe I wouldn't be here, relying on strangers to look after Jake.

Clay catches me as I almost fall on my face again. "All right, all right, damn, stay still a minute. Hell, I'll take you to Jake, just...don't pass out again, okay?"

I nod, frantic to see him and make sure he's okay. Clay helps me stagger across the room, looks like we're in a hotel or somethin'. There's a door facin' me, Clay shoves it open and I see Nathan bending over Jake, messin' with his shoulder. Jake's moanin' again, the blond guy, was his name Chris? Well, him anyway, he's holdin' Jake down, keeping him still while Nathan works.

"Stay still, would'ya?" Chris mutters at Jake. Jake doesn't reply, just moans again as Nathan presses and pokes at skin which has to be sore as hell.

I want to yell at 'em all, tell 'em to leave Jake alone, to stop hurtin' him, but they're only trying to help, right? This is what we rode all those miles for. I bite my tongue and watch as Nathan un-packs the bullet hole in Jake's shoulder.

He looks over at me and grins. "You did a good job. Nice and neat. You done this before?"

I shake my head. No point in 'em knowing how many times Jake and me have patched each other up.

Nathan gives me a narrow look, like he knows I'm lyin'. I don't care. He turns back to Jake and looks at his shoulder a little more.

"Well, it's a little dirty, that's probably what's causing the fever. I'll clean it and re-pack it. I think there's some sage in my bag, Chris, that'll help break the fever if we can get some tea down this boy."

I don't know any of these men from Adam, but they all seem to know what they're doin'. It's reassuring, I think. The tightness in my chest eases a little as Jake opens his eyes and looks over at me. He blinks at me a few times, then rolls his eyes up to look at Nathan. I can see him swallow hard, his mouth's too tight and there's a little line 'tween his eyebrows which means he's worried. Yeah, he's right to be. As nice as it is of these guys to help us, we don't know them. Dealin' with strangers is always a recipe for disaster, 'specially when the law's after you. You never know who might turn on you. Soon as we can, we need to get out of here.

"How you doin'?" Jake's eyes are on me. I know he's not just askin' how I feel, he wants to know how long till we move. I sniff, I don't have a clue.

"Not bad," I reply, leaning on the doorframe to keep myself upright. "Doc'll get you fixed up in no time."

Jake looks back at Nathan, who smiles in that calm way he seems to have.

"Your friend did a good job on your shoulder," Nathan says. "Not much left for me to do, 'cept clean it a bit and deal with that fever of yours."

"Whatever you've got for a fever, get some down his throat, too," Jake jerks his head at me. "He looks terrible."

I raise an eyebrow at him, it's his fault I've got a hole in my leg, after all. He grins and closes his eyes. He always looks young when he's asleep. Sometimes I forget we're both only in our twenties. I feel a lot older. A rush of somethin' I don't understand hits me. Kind of like I know Jake's the only thing worth living for. Getting here was painful but I'd have ridden twice as far, twice as hard if it meant helpin' him.

Nathan's done poking at Jake's bandage, Chris hands him some dry leaves, sage, it'll help the fever but the tea tastes like crap. Somehow there's already hot water in a bowl nearby, so Nathan's got the the stuff brewed in no time. Jake cusses and splutters but drinks some of it. The knot in my stomach releases a bit. Maybe we'll be okay.

Clay's hands are still helpin' to keep me on my feet, they tighten as Nathan turns to me and I try to take a quick step backward. Never did like doctors much.

"Come on," Clay says behind me. "Your turn, I think."

"'M okay," I mumble.

"Bullshit," Nathan grins while Chris narrows his eyes at me. "Get over on that bed and let me look at that leg of yours."

"Be a good boy, now," Jake calls to me as Clay steers me back toward the bed. "Maybe if you behave I'll give you some candy afterwards."

I feel like stickin' my tongue out at him but hell, even I'm not that childish.

"Okay then," Nathan settles himself on his knees to poke at my thigh. "My God, how did you do this?"

I chance a look downward and wish I hadn't. The edges of the gash are ragged and raw. It's still hot and throbbin' like I don't know what. But I can't see any yellow stuff oozing from it, so maybe I'm not completely fucked. Nathan bends closer,

"I don't smell any gangrene, I think you got lucky."

Lucky. Well, there's a first time for everythin'. I just nod, too tired to say anything.

"This will probably heal better with stitches," Nathan sounds like he's apologizing. "I have the stuff in my bag. Lie back, won't take me long."

I do as he says, makes no sense to argue. And Clay an' Chris are standin' in the corner, eyeballin' me, so I don't have much of a choice. Out of the corner of my eye, I see Chris lean forward and say somethin' into Clay's ear. Clay looks a little thoughtful for a minute, then nods. I rub my nose and try not to worry. They could be talkin' about anything. Just 'cause Clay looks at me for a mite longer than he should, don't mean he's about to turn us in.

Nathan comes back and leans over me, in a way I'm glad I can't see Clay anymore, less to worry about.

"Deep breath," Nathan says. "This'll probably sting."

I know what it'll feel like, Jake's sewn me up enough times before. But there's no need for Nathan to know that, so I bite my lip and try to look nervous. To tell the truth, I am nervous, gettin' stitched back together's not the best way to spend an afternoon.

"Got any whiskey?" I croak.

Nathan grins and hands me a bottle. "I don't usually let my patients drink while I work on 'em, but you look like you need it."

I nod my thanks and sit up to take a few deep gulps of the stuff. It burns worse than my leg, holy God, it's no better than the rotgut that bastard served over in the saloon. Gaspin' and splutterin' enough to make Clay and Chris grin and laugh at me, I hand Nathan the bottle back and lie down.

Feelin' the needle and catgut slide through the ripped skin on either side of the slash is not one of the nicest sensations. I catch myself biting my tongue to keep from moanin' each time it happens. That's no good, so I stare up at the ceiling and imagine I can see blue skies instead. That don't help, so I imagine I'm under a blanket of stars with Jake grinnin' down at me. Somehow that does take my mind off the pain.

How long will it be 'fore we're back out on our own, I wonder. As nice as it is to be under a solid roof and have a real bed to sleep in, it's dangerous. The longer we're in town, the more likely it is someone will recognize us from those damn wanted posters and call the sheriff.

The needle takes me by surprise and I gasp a little as it pricks at very sore skin. Nathan murmurs an apology. I ignore him and concentrate on breathin'.

"There, done," he says after a few more minutes. He sounds satisfied and pleased with himself. I look at him and raise an eyebrow. "Stitching people up's a rewarding thing." He sounds a bit defensive, so I smile.

"No argument here, Doc. Thanks."

"Stay off that leg for a while, okay?"

"How long?" I want to get our things together and head for the horses right now, but I guess that'd be undoing all the good Nathan's done for both of us.

"Day or two," he shrugs. "Just give yourselves time to heal a little. Here, drink this."

He comes at me with the sage tea, I wince and pull faces but Jake will yell at me if I don't drink it, he had to, after all. It's nasty stuff, but it'll help, I hope. Years ago, one of the ladies at the orphanage told me, 'the worst a medicine tastes, the better it does you.' Well, goin' by that, Jake and I should be hale and hearty by nightfall.

My eyelids are gettin' heavy, I can feel sleep pullin' at me but I don't want to rest. "Jake..." I mumble.

"Don't worry," Clay says from across the room. "You're okay here, both of you. Just get some rest."

I don't believe him for a minute but my body has other ideas and I'm asleep before he's finished talkin'.


	11. Chapter 11

When I next wake up, it's gettin' dark. For a minute I panic, I don't remember where I am and all I can think is, walls, jail, must be in jail. Then I remember and calm down a bit. Where's Jake?

"Hey," Nathan smiles at me from the corner of the room. "How're you feelin?"

I swallow past a dry throat and say, "Okay. Where's Jake, he all right?"

"He's fine," Nathan looks proud of himself. "I'd say you found us just in time."

"Yeah," I say. I don't want to think about what might have happened if we hadn't found this place. If we were still out there on our own...I shake myself and sit up. I need to see Jake.

To his credit, Nathan doesn't try to stop me, he just helps me stand up and limp across the room. When we get through the door I smile. Jake's sittin' up playing cards with Chris an' Clay. If I had the energy, I'd laugh at the two older men, 'cause that's nothin' more than a quick way to lose a lot of money. I should know, first time I ever met Jake was across a poker table. He took every cent I had and by the end of the game I owed him the shirt on my back. It wasn't a debt I much minded paying.

He looks up as I stagger in and the grin on his face is better than any medicine Nathan's got in his bag.

"The prodigal son returns...how's the leg?"

I just grunt at him and manage to sit down without makin' a fool of myself. Jake shakes his head a little and smiles then looks at the cards in his hands. "Another hand, gentlemen?"

"You need some rest," Nathan says, deep and serious. "That fever's coming down but you ain't recovered yet."

Jake waves a hand and says 'Pfft." Nathan glowers at him for a minute, Jake stares back. I'm just startin' to wonder whether I need to stop a fight when Chris slaps his hands on the table and stands up.

"C'mon Nathan, I'm starving. Let's go get dinner. Clay, you comin'?"

"Be there in a few." Clay's leanin' back in his chair, a faint smile on his face.

For some reason that smile worries me. Could Jake and I go now, just grab the horses and run? I try to stretch out my leg without anyone seein' and wince. Nope. No chance of runnin' anywhere yet. Jake's lookin' better but he's still too flushed, his cheeks are pinker than normal and there's sweat on his nose. He's just gettin' jumpy. Can't blame him, I am too.

Chris and Nathan leave, my stomach makes rumblin' noises when I think about food. Maybe they'll bring somethin' back with 'em. Clay's still lookin' at us with that damn smile. What the hell's he up to?

The door snicks shut and we hear Chris and Nathan clatterin' downstairs. Clay looks over his shoulder, then turns back to us. He picks up the last hand he was dealt and looks at the cards.

"No good," he tosses the cards back onto the table and leans back, tilting his chair on two legs. I swallow, somethin's tellin' me to run, right now and be damned to the consequences. I shift about on my chair and see that Jake's doin' the same.

"Thanks for helpin' us," Jake ventures, tryin' to sound off-hand. "Real nice of you."

"Yes, it was," Clay grins. That's it, nothin' more, but I'm still squirmin' inside. What's going on?

After a quick look at Chris' hand of cards, Clay says quietly, "The sheriff in this town's named Wade."

He glances up at us, I try to keep my face clear and see that Jake's doin' the same. A little stab of pride slides into my gut. Jake can lie with the best of 'em sometimes. He's a good actor, too.

Clay goes on, "Wade looks like an idiot but he's not."

His eyes are on me. I raise an eyebrow and hope that it's enough reaction for him. Why's he talkin' about the sheriff? Panic starts to churn in me again. Oh crap, where have Chris and Nathan really gone? Jake's knee starts jiggling next to mine, I want to slap a hand down on it and keep him still but I'm honestly too scared to think straight. This is what I was always most afraid of. If we both get caught, who's comin' to save us?

"Wade checks the wanted posters every time a new face appears in town." Clay's still talkin', not in any rush, just slow and as though he's with a couple of friends. He steals the deck from Jake and deals himself another poker hand. "Still crap." He shrugs. "I check posters too, just for the hell of it, ya know? Never know when somebody with a good bounty on their head might chance comin' into town to get supplies."

"You live here?" Jake's voice is low and rough, I tense up. He uses that voice when he's ready for action of one kind or another.

"Me?" Clay grins more widely. "Nah, I'm up in Colorado. I'm just here to meet Chris. We know each other from way back." His gaze switches to me, I want to look away but make myself meet his eyes. "I checked the posters after we bought you two up here."

Jake's hand clenches into a tight fist, resting on his leg. I shuffle my foot over to his and press down, ignoring the pain which shoots through my bad thigh. Wait, I try to tell him, just wait and see what happens.

"Cougar and Jake," Clay chuckles. "Maybe you boys should think about usin' different names."

He pulls two sheets of paper from his vest pocket and smoothes them onto the table. Our wanted posters. Shit. There's no pictures of us, thank God. So far we've always been pretty careful 'bout keepin' our faces covered when we rob anyone, but we can't hide the fact I'm shorter than Jake or that Jake's shoulders are wide and my hair's black and long. Readin' the descriptions on the posters gives me a headache and I'm sure I got some of the words wrong, but I'm unhappy to see that they're pretty accurate.

Jake's face ain't givin' nothin' away. I hope mine's as blank.

"That's not us," he says, somehow forcin' a smile. He folds his arms and leans back in his chair like Clay. "Don't know where you got the idea, but we ain't no wanted criminals."

"How'd you get a bullet through your shoulder, then?" Clay shoots back. He looks at me, "And how many other people go round callin' themselves 'Cougar'?"

I look at Jake. He's already lookin' at me and there's desperation in his eyes. What do we do? I don't even have a gun and I can't see where Jake's is. What the hell chance do we have of even gettin' out of the room before Clay shoots both of us?

"Relax, boys," Clay still sounds calm and unworried. He gathers up the posters, folds 'em neatly and stows 'em back in his pocket. "Your bounties ain't that impressive. There's bigger fish to fry than you two."

"You a bounty hunter?" Jake asks harshly, his lip curls a little, I know what he thinks of the bastards who chase people like us just for the profit they can make from draggin' us to jail.

Clay laughs, deep and booming. "Nope. Just a rancher. I'm only doin' this 'cause you seem like nice guys and I hate Wade. Chris and Nathan are lawmen types though, so maybe it's best we don't talk about this in front of them. Then again, long as you don't go causin' trouble in their town, maybe they wouldn't care too much about you bein' wanted for armed robbery, holding up stagecoaches and maybe even a murder or two. But they'd all be in self defense, wouldn't they? The other guys always drew first."

"Matter of fact, they did," Jake growls. Clay smiles.

I don't say anythin'. So Clay knows who we are, what's he gonna do about it? If he hates the sherrif, is he plannin' on takin' us in himself? But if he doesn't think much of the money on our heads, why would he bother?

"So, now what?" Jake sounds like he's ready for a fight. "You gonna be a hero and bring in two notorious bad men all by yourself?"

Clay's face is darker all of a sudden, he's not joking anymore. "I'm no hero, son. Like I said, just a rancher. I don't care what you two have done, it's a hard life out here, makes people do bad things. All I need is some new ranch-hands."

"What?" I don't mean to say it, but it kind of falls out of my mouth without me knowing about it.

"You heard me." Clay looks smug now, could I hit him, I wonder. "I need more hands on my ranch and you two are the types I'm lookin' for."

"Outlaws?" Jake sounds like he can't believe what he's hearing. I'm right there with him and I can't believe it. "Mister, I don't know what game you're playin' but I don't want any part of it."

"No game," Clay's got his serious face back on. "I'm just offerin' you a job, that's all. You don't want it, fine, but you'd better get your asses out of town before Wade realizes who you are 'cause I'm telling you here and now, you'll be in jail before daybreak. He's a bad man too, so he won't mind if you're a little beat up when you're headin' out to the noose. That what you want? Or are you clever enough to recognize a way out when you see it?"

My chest's too tight again and I can feel sweat pricklin' along my hairline. Jake's got his jaw clenched so hard I'm worried about his teeth. Neither of us say anythin', we don't move, don't even look at each other. My brain's movin' faster than a train though and I'll bet Jake's is too. Is this for real? Or just some very clever trick to get us both into jail at once? What if it is real? Is it a way out? Do we want a way out? What's Colorado like? I don't think I've ever been there. Wonder if Jake has.

Clay suddenly stands up. "I'm hungry, think I'll go find Chris an' Nathan." He grabs his hat and crushes it onto his head, looks like he's been wearin' it for a long time, it's stained and ripped in places. Reminds me of my own.

"I'll bring you boys something back to eat," he says as he strolls out of the door. "If you're still here, that is." He stops and turns, "Word of advice. Don't go poking at Wade, if you wanna run, just run. But it'd make a lot more sense to take my offer. Let's face it, you can always just kill me outside o' town and run anyway, can't you? Or you can be clever and come work for me. Your choice."

And he leaves. I stare at the door for a minute, I think my mouth's hangin' open. Jake speaks first, like he always does.

"Holy shit."

"Yeah," I say.

"You think he means it?"

I think for a second, "Yeah."

"Why?"

I shrug. "I don't know."

"What are we gonna do?" There's a deep line between Jake's eyebrows. Makes him look too old, I kind of want to run my thumb over it and make it go away, but that'd be foolish. Even when we're alone, we don't really do things like that.

So instead I bite at the inside of my mouth. I don't know what we're gonna do. I think I want to believe Clay and go to Colorado but if I tell Jake that, will he just laugh at me for bein' a trusting fool?

All of a sudden I can see the rest of our lives, mapped out in front of me. We'll keep running, one step ahead of the law, sometimes two if we're lucky. We'll hide and live off the land when we can, maybe only go into town when we're desperate. We'll be forever lookin' over our shoulders, wonderin' who's gonna fire the shots which kill us, or how long we'll last before we both get caught. It never bothered me before but now...now I think maybe it'd be nice to have a place to call home, even if I don't own it. I don't want to wonder whether I can trust people before I talk to 'em. I want to die an old man, safe in a bed, not out on some empty prairie.

And I want Jake, I want him with me every step o' the way. I want to know I don't have to worry for him. Be nice if he didn't have to worry 'bout me, either. Maybe I'm gettin' old or somethin', going soft in the head. But I want to have Jake in a real bed for once. I've had enough of sleepin' on the ground and using a saddle as a damn pillow. Me and Jake, in a bed, on a ranch in Colorado.

"I'm goin' with Clay." I close my eyes and wonder what I'll do if Jake says he doesn't want to go.

He's quiet for a long time, well, seems like a long time. I hear him rubbin' his chin, he needs a shave too, his whiskers are as bad as mine.

"Colorado could be nice," he says eventually.

I let out the breath I've been holding. Jake laughs a little. "What, you thought I'd go on running without you? Cougs, you're dumb sometimes."

"I know," I say, wonderin' if there's any whiskey in the room. I could use a drink. I'm lookin' around when Jake catches hold of my shirt collar, well, his shirt collar really, seein' as I'm still wearin' his spare.

"Hey," he says and his voice is rough again. "I won't go anywhere without you. You understand? You an' me, that's it, that's all there is. You're..." he stops and breathes deep for a minute. "You're all I got, Cougs. If you go someplace, I won't be far behind." He pulls me forward and kisses me, hard and hot.

When he lets me go, I can see stars an' my leg's hurting 'cause I'm leanin' on it. I think maybe I should envy him for bein' able to say such things out loud, but I don't. I twist a hand into his shirt and pull him back toward me. Screw envy, this is more important.


	12. Chapter 12

Nathan's a big guy but he fusses like an old woman. I'm tryin' to get into my new pants and he's hovering over me like I'm gonna fall on my ass at any minute.

"Nathan," I say, tryin' not to sound too ornery. "I'm fine, really. My leg's healin'. I can do this by myself."

He narrows his eyes at me but goes off to plague Jake instead. Clay comes in and watches me hop around, real awkward for a minute, before I manage to get myself safely into my pants. Tellin' him to get lost is on the tip of my tongue, but seein' as he's kind of our employer now, maybe I shouldn't. So I keep my mouth shut and wait for him to talk first.

"You ready?" he says at last.

I nod.

"Feelin' better?"

I nod again. I think I like that Clay doesn't expect me to talk much. Don't know what he thinks about Jake and his babble.

"It's a decent ride from here to my place," Clay says, lookin' straight at me. "You gonna manage it?"

I twist my mouth and nod once more.

"You know how to get those stitches out when you need to?"

"Yeah." I figure I've run out of nods, better talk 'fore he gets pissed off.

"All right, then," he turns and walks out of the room. I hear him go downstairs, his boots thumpin' on every step.

"Gettin' to know our boss?" Jake says from behind me. He's dressed, ready to go. His arm's still in a sling, restin' his shoulder, Nathan says. Somewhere he found time for a shave, he looks better with most of the beard gone. As always, he's kept a bit around his mouth, makes him look a little like a gentleman from back East. But the gun at his hip and the look in his eye remind me that he's been out here a long time. He's as hard as me now. Maybe harder.

"What?"

I've been starin' at him, as ever, he calls me on it. Damn him, he likes to make me talk sometimes. Just to annoy him, I shake my head and say, "Nothin'."

He smiles and rolls his eyes. "Cougs, you're a pain in the ass when you want to be."

I raise an eyebrow. He looks over his shoulder then crosses to stand in front of me. Hooking his free hand round the back of my neck, he squeezes a little, then kisses me. I almost hate that I love the way he touches me so much, but when he slides his tongue along my bottom lip, I grab at him and wrap my hands round his biceps. He makes a pained noise as I jar his bad shoulder.

"Shit, sorry." I let go and step back. "Forgot."

"Don't worry 'bout it," Jake grins. "It was worth it."

Sometimes I wonder if I should ask what Jake sees in me, but then I realize that'd take more words than I can normally summon. And I know he probably wouldn't give me a straight answer. He's got more words than I can deal with.

I test out my leg, resting a little weight on it. It's been nearly a week and Nathan's care has done wonders for both of us. He says he's not a proper doctor but he's one of the best I've ever seen. All the same, my leg's still healing.

"Still bad, huh?" Jake frowns.

"Nah," I shrug, although it does kind of ache. "'s'fine. Just a little sore here an' there. How 'bout you? Fever goin'?"

Jake nods and glances down at his bandaged shoulder. "Yeah, I'm okay. Nathan's some kind of miracle worker. Said somethin' about taking some willow bark with us and making tea to keep the fever away."

He looks over at the door, than back at me. He's bitin' his lip and my heart sinks. Damn, what now?

"We doin' the right thing, Cougs?" The hard man's gone, the scared kid's back for a minute.

"I don't know," I shake my head. "Seems like a good chance, be dumb not to take it, right?"

"Right," he says, he don't sound too convinced.

Neither am I. This could be a trap for all we know, I don't see why anyone would go to so much trouble to bring us in, but you never know. We're bad men after all, plenty of people'd be glad to see us dead. My hand goes to my hip and I remember my guns are back in Abilene.

Jake makes a sound like he's laughin'.

"What?" I say, wonderin' what I've done that's funny.

"You," he says, God, he sounds fond. Is he fond of me? Is that good or bad? "You're naked without a gun."

I shrug, don't know what to say.

"I prefer you just naked but it's better when we're all alone," Jake says, grinning.

I roll my eyes but I can feel my cheeks heatin' up. Damn him. I watch as he goes to the corner of the room and picks up a burlap sack.

"Here." He holds it out to me. I take it, wonderin' whether there's a dead rattlesnake in here. It'd probably be his idea of a joke.

Peerin' inside the bag, I see that it ain't a rattler, which makes me stop sweatin' quite so much. I smile as I pull out two gun belts. They ain't fancy, my stuff never is. You don't need to look good to kill a man an' I've done that more times 'an I care to remember. But the leather's soft and supple, oiled well and there's no cracks I can see.

The guns are plain, just normal Colts, no fancy engraving on the barrel or any of that shit. That's for dudes from back East, thinkin' the fancier their guns, the better they'll shoot. I weigh 'em in my hands. Feels good to hold a weapon again, Jake's right, I'm naked without one, and two's even better. Lots 'o people say nobody's as good with both hands as far as shootin' goes. Well, I don't like to brag but I'm pretty good. I'm right-handed but I can hit a jackrabbit when he's on the run with my left. Jake's not too shabby himself but only wears one gun, he says I'm good enough for the both of us.

"Where'd you get these?" I ask, and damn if my voice ain't a little cracked. Who would've thought I'd get all silly over guns?

"Went out for 'em while you were asleep one night." Jake's lookin' smug, I don't know whether to punch him or kiss him. "There's a gunsmith on the edge of town, Clay showed me."

I nod, words have gone again, I don't know what to say next. I manage to croak out, "Thanks."

Jake smiles and doesn't reply. It usually worries me when he doesn't talk but now it's all right. I smile back, then buckle on the belts. Everythin' seems looser all of a sudden. All the muscles in my chest relax and my neck feels like it does when Jake's done rubbin' at it. The leather's soft under my fingers, so damn good. Jake's watchin' me again.

"What?"

"You." He shakes his head a little. "Sometimes, I..." whatever he's gonna say gets lost as Clay yells up from the street below.

"Hey! You two ready or do I have to wait down here all day?"

"We ready?" Jake's eyes are on me. I get the feelin' he's askin' a mite more than whether I've got my bag packed or not.

Are we ready? I know it ain't much of a life to give up, bein' on the run's not as exciting as the dime novels make it out to be. But all the same, it's what I've known for over ten years. Suddenly goin' straight, lawful ranch hands, can we do that? Hell, I don't even know anythin' about cattle, 'cept which end's which. I doubt Jake's ever been closer to a cow than I have, how in the world's he gonna cope?

We always cope. It's what we do. Whether it's bustin' one or other of us out of jail, fixin' up gunshot wounds or makin' up after another argument, we always get by.

I smile at him. "Yeah, we're ready."


	13. Chapter 13

We amble out of town, Clay doesn't seem to be in any rush. I wouldn't mind going a mite faster but that's probably because Wade, the sheriff, is watchin' every step our horses take.

Chris and Nathan come with us as far as the edge of town. I still don't really know how they know Clay and I don't feel like asking, my insides are all a'squirm. So far it doesn't look like Clay's trying to lure us out into the open so he can jump us and turn us in. Surely if he planned to do that, he couldn't have let Jake give me new guns, would he? I rub at the buckle of my new gunbelt, just for luck.

The further we get from the sheriff's office, the happier I am. A little warm spot of something starts to burn in my chest. Hope, maybe? Are we about to get away with all the bad things we've done? Does Clay know about all the robberies, the banks, the stores we've held up? It ain't like we're on the same level as the James gang but we're no angels either.

I'm so caught up with worrying about what might happen to us, I don't notice that Clay's stopped and is sayin' his goodbyes to Chris and Nathan.

"Come see us soon, okay?" he says, shaking first Chris' hand, then Nathan's. "There's always a bed for you at my place, you know that."

"Yeah, we know," Chris grins. Even when he smiles, he looks dangerous. Like a coyote, lean and hungry. "Same goes for you, anytime you're down south, look us up."

Clay nods and smiles back.

"Nathan," Jake holds out his good hand. "I can't thank you enough for what you've done. If we hadn't met you..." he trails off and I try not think about what might've happened.

"No problem," Nathan smiles, his teeth very white in the bright sunshine. "Glad I could help. You boys take better care of yourselves now, okay?"

"Yeah," Jake looks a little sheepish. "We'll try."

I shake hands with both men as well. I'd like to thank Nathan, really properly thank him for bein' so ready to help two strangers, but the words get tangled and all I can manage is, "Ride careful on your way home."

"You bet," Nathan's still smiling.

Chris doesn't smile when he looks at me. Somethin' tells me he knows exactly who and what me and Jake are. My insides cramp again. What's he gonna do about it?

"You take care," he says, real serious. "I'd hate to hear that somethin' bad had happened to Clay on his way home."

"Yes, sir," I croak out. "We'll be careful."

Clay laughs. "Cut it out, Chris, you'll scare 'em."

Chris shrugs, still eyeballing me.

"See ya around," he says, sharp and clipped. Then he's riding away, Nathan followin' behind him.

Clay pulls his horse's head around and urges it into a trot. "You two okay to keep moving most of the day?" he calls over his shoulder. "Not gonna pass out on me or anything, are you? I'm no doctor, so if you fall off your horses I might just leave you there."

"We'll be fine," Jake says, low and harsh. "Just lead the way."

Clay laughs. "Prickly, ain't ya?" He glances at me. "He always this uptight?"

I shake my head. Of all the ways I've heard people describe Jake, 'uptight' has never been one of them. He's only snappy now because he's as scared as I am that we're makin' a mistake. I like to know where we're heading and why. Blindly followin' someone we only met a few days ago into a future we know nothing about scares the shit out of me.

"You ever talk?" Clay calls to me. "You talked back in town. How come you're so quiet now?"

"Nothin' to say," I reply, doing my level best to sound pleasant.

"Well, that's bullshit." The smile which worries me is back on Clay's face again. I look at Jake and see his good hand is clenched so hard on his reins, his knuckles are white.

"You got plenty of questions," Clay goes on. "We're outside of town, ask 'em. If you don't like the answers, you can just go your own way, no hard feelings."

"You sure about that?" Jake asks. "The no hard feelings part?"

"Look," Clay sounds tired and wipes a hand over his face. "I'm not playing any game here. I need guys to work on my ranch. You seem like the kind of people I want. I offered you a job, you accepted. That's it."

"Why us?" I ask. "Why not just get normal law-abiding folk to work for you?"

Clay grins his wolfish smile at me, all teeth. "'Cause that'd be boring."

He doesn't say anything more, just trots out a little way ahead of us, leavin' me and Jake to follow.

"What the hell?" Jake mutters, leaning close to me. "Who is he? What's he want with outlaws? You think he's even got a ranch? Or are we gettin' ourselves into some really bad shit?"

I shake my head. "I don't know."

We go on a little further, the horses covering the miles easily. My leg's startin' to ache something fierce and Jake's got the pinched look 'round his mouth again. His shoulder must be hurting, too.

"How 'bout a break?" I call to Clay, who's still out in front.

He looks up at the sky. It's hot again and it must be noon at least. "Sure, I could use a drink."

I slide off of my horse with a grunt, Jake does the same and just bites back a gasp as he moves his shoulder too fast. "All right?" I ask quietly.

"Yeah," he nods. "Gotta stop doin' that."

There's hardly any shade and my head feels like it's bein' baked again. My hair's too heavy and too hot. I grab my knife to just cut the lot of it off, but Jake snags my hand.

"No. Don't."

"Jake..." I begin, but his thumb rubs at the inside of my wrist.

"It suits you," he says, his eyes too blue to be real. "Leave it."

I drop the knife. I can hardly ever refuse him anything when he looks at me like that. And it's been far too long since we were alone together. Just his thumb on my wrist is enough to make me start thinkin' things a man shouldn't think about before the sun sets. Clay's voice pulls me out of memories of lyin' on warm prairie grass, Jake's hands on me and nobody else in the world to see us.

"So, are you two...you know?" Clay doesn't look at us as he asks.

Jake shoots me a worried glance. What do we say? Most people think two men feeling like we do about each other is immoral and downright sinful. I couldn't give a shit, I'm a sinner and proud of it. I'm going to hell anyway so I might as well do something bad enough to warrant eternal damnation.

"Don't know what you mean," Jake says. "Are we what?"

"Don't play dumb with me, kid," Clay pushes his hat further over his eyes, tryin' to keep the sun from dazzling him. "You and Cougar, are you...you know? I know you know what I mean an' I'm not saying it out loud so you might as well just tell me and have done with it."

"What of it?" I ask, shoving my chin up. I'm not ashamed of bein' with Jake. He's the best thing that ever happened to me and I'm damned if I'm gonna apologize for it.

Clay shrugs. "Nothin'. I couldn't give a rat's ass who you like to sleep with. I just like to know things about the people who work for me."

"You mean you like to have something to hold over 'em," Jake says, an ugly look on his face. "I don't think I like you much."

Clay laughs at that. "Kid, I don't care whether you like me or not. I ain't doin' this to make friends. I don't care if you and Cougar share a bedroll and I sure as hell ain't gonna kick up a fuss about it if you use the same bed when we get to my place. 'Long as you do your jobs, that is."

"And if we don't?" I ask.

That worrying smile flits across Clay's face again. "Other people might not be as easy-going as me."

"You can't blackmail us, mister," Jake says. "There are plenty of other bad men around, you can always get them to do your dirty work for you. You don't need us."

"True," Clay nods, taking a long swig from his water bottle. "But I think you two are different. You ain't made like the other bad men. You weren't born bad, things just got away from you a little and you're fightin' to get 'em back."

"Voice of experience?" I ask, a little proud that I sound shrewd.

"Maybe," Clay says quietly. He looks down at his hands, then turns his back on us.

We eat quickly, not talking much. I'm not very hungry on account of I'm still wonderin' whether I'm leading Jake into a peck of trouble. He keeps lookin' at me, I can see he's as torn as I am. Half of him wants to believe that we're doin' the right thing. The other half wants to get the hell away from Clay as fast as we can. I'm the same.

He raises an eyebrow. I shake my head. Give Clay the benefit of the doubt for now. He might be somethin' of a snake but he could also be our ticket to a better life. An' I do want that life, I suddenly realize. Dangerous as it might be gettin' there, I want it pretty bad.

We pack up and keep moving. The sun's boiling my brain again, Jake's sweating buckets. I hand him my water bottle when his is dry. Gotta keep him going, that's all that matters.

As we ride, I let myself dream of a soft bed and a room to call home. There'd be a window to open in summer and a stove to keep the chill off in winter. I find myself smilin', imagining Jake splitting logs in his shirtsleeves. He'd keep the fire going and I'd bring back the food, I've always been a better hunter than him. It'd be just the two of us, playin' house. I know it ain't likely to be like that on Clay's ranch, but a man can dream, can't he?

The scenery doesn't change much as we make our way through Kansas. I'm too caught up with worryin' to care. I sure hope we're doing the right thing.


	14. Chapter 14

We ride all day, then stop and make camp just before dark. Clay doesn't say anything about it, so he must be all right with our little routine. Most of the time he watches us, like he's thinkin' long and hard about me and Jake. It worries me.

Jake's shoulder's healing. Every day he looks a little better. That flush in his cheeks which came with the damn fever's gone and he looks more like himself. Complains more, too, so I know he's getting better.

"We'll be out of Kansas tomorrow," Clay says one night.

I'm busy gettin' my blanket spread out on the ground so I don't reply. Of course, Jake has something to say.

"So what's this ranch of yours like? How big is it?"

"Big enough," Clay replies, calm and easy. "As for what it's like, it's got trees and grassland and a house or two where they need to be. Just like any other ranch."

I can see Jake's got a smart comment on the tip of his tongue so I say, "You got anyone else workin' for you?"

"Couple o' guys," Clay says. "You'll meet 'em when we get there. That is, if you still want to come along. You're free to leave any time you want, you know."

"We know," Jake says warily.

"That's good then."

I get the impression Clay thinks Jake's funny. I hope he doesn't laugh at him outright 'cause Jake's got as much of a temper as the rest of us and he hates bein' laughed at.

"We don't know anythin' much about ranching," I blurt, hoping to distract 'em both.

Clay does laugh at that. Good thing I don't mind being laughed at.

"Thanks for telling me." Clay scratches at his beard. If it itches as much as mine, it must be drivin' him crazy. "You don't need to know much, I'll show you what to do."

"I still don't understand why you'd want us when there are other guys out there who already know how to run a ranch," Jake sounds as confused as I feel.

"You'll see why soon enough." Clay lies down and tips his hat over his face. For the past week that's been his signal that he's goin' to sleep and won't say another word.

I look at Jake and shrug. Nothing much we can do if the man won't talk. Yeah, we can up and leave but if we do, where do we go? We'd be right back where we started, just a couple o' outlaws on the run. Time for a change, I reckon.

I know Clay said he doesn't care if me and Jake share a blanket and such but somehow it don't feel right to be up close to Jake with somebody else nearby. I think Jake feels the same, he's been making his bed further from mine than normal.

He doesn't lie down, his signal that he'll take the first watch. I wrap my hand round his ankle for a minute and squeeze a little. He smiles at me and the world ain't such a dark place.

"Get some sleep, you look like hell."

"Sweet talker."

Jake laughs and I turn over and try to get comfy.

It's dark when I next open my eyes. For a minute I don't know where I am, everythin's swimming around me. Then I realize Jake's shaking my shoulder and his mouth's right next to my ear.

"There's someone out by the horses. Don't make any noise, just get up, okay?"

I nod and throw off the blanket as quietly as I can. "Wake Clay."

I feel Jake nod more than see it, then he's creeping off to shake Clay awake. If there's somebody by our horses, it's probably not a good thing. Horse thievin's a hanging offense for a reason. If you steal a man's horse out here, you're killing him as surely as if you'd put a bullet in his head. I know I'll most likely die out here in the West but I don't want it to be because some bastard took my horse and left me on foot with no hope of gettin' to a town.

By the time Clay's awake and actually movin', I've got my gun belts buckled on.

"Cougs," Jake hisses at me. "Wait, let me come an' help."

Fine by me, I don't want to go take on horse thieves by myself. But Jake's arm's still in a sling and if he goes around tryin' to fight anyone off, he'll probably undo all the good Nathan did in getting that wound to start healing.

"You stay here," I whisper. "Clay, come help."

"Right behind ya," Clay mutters.

Leavin' Jake behind to watch the camp and probably mutter about what an unfair, mother hen bastard I am, I head off into the dark. Clay's footsteps are loud enough to wake the dead, 'least it seems that way. I roll my eyes and work on making myself as silent as I can.

The horses are only a little way away. They're snorting and stamping now, sure sign there's somethin' going on which they don't much like.

I step on a rock and twist my thigh in a way which makes the still-healing gash scream blue murder. Biting the inside of my mouth hurts like hell as well, but it stops me from cursing out loud.

Clay pokes me in the back. "Keep moving."

I want to turn round an' tell him to shut the fuck up but I keep it behind my teeth and just keep creepin' forward.

It's pitch black out here and there's not much of a moon tonight. All I can see is the big black shapes of the horses, slightly darker than the night behind 'em. All of a sudden, I see somethin' else, someone else. There's smaller shapes darting around the horses, our thieves, by the looks of it.

Holdin' out my arm to stop Clay barreling forward and makin' a mess of everything, I drop to one knee and hold my breath. I've got one of my guns in my hand and the thought of using it doesn't worry me in the least. If these bastards want to take our horses, they can do it over my dead body and as long as I can breathe, I can shoot, or at least I think that's the way it works.

They're good, I gotta admit. They're not makin' much noise, but the horses don't like all the scurrying around. They're stomping at the ground now, snortin' and generally making it known they're not happy.

Clay pokes me again. I grit my teeth. He's startin' to annoy me. Before I know what he's doing, he jumps up and yells, "Hey! Get the fuck away from our horses, you little bastards!"

They don't bother to reply, they just start shooting. Must be as desperate as I remember being more than once.

The gunshots light up the night and I curse. Last thing we need is one of us gettin' hit by a stray bullet. I remember Jake's yell as we galloped out of Abilene and my blood runs cold for a minute. Fine, these bastards want a fight, they can have one.

I can see two small-ish shadows crouchin' down behind the horses. Clay's still shoutin' insults at 'em and firing as best he can without hitting our animals.

Creeping forward makes my leg burn but I ignore the pain and concentrate on gettin' as close as I can to the pair hiding behind the horses. It's funny, sometimes when I'm in the middle of a fight everything's crazy and I can't make sense of it. Other times everythin's pretty calm and I can see what's going to happen before it does. This wasn't one of those times. What with Clay firing like a madman and yelling behind me and the horses makin' as much noise as they can, everything's crazy and all I can do is try to ignore it.

I crouch down behind a bush and breathe for a minute. My leg's hurting like hell but now's not the time to think about that. I stare at the spot behind the horses, yeah, there are two darker shadows still there. They're not firin', leaving that to their friends, I reckon. It's what I'd do. Get someone to distract the poor bastard I was robbing while I got the horses. Easy.

Taking a deep breath sounds too loud but I know nobody will hear me. I let it out slow till I feel a bit more relaxed. Shootin' in the pitch black ain't never gonna be easy but I've done it before.

I squeeze the trigger and try to allow for the kick. There's a yell and some really bad cursing from the boys behind the horses. I grin. Bullseye.

Hopefully the guy I just hit will make himself scarce, I don't wanna deal with a wounded horse thief in the morning and Jake might just shoot him himself.

There's some more gunfire behind me, Clay's still trading shots with the third thief by the looks of it. Crouching low, I hurry over to him and try to see just why in the hell he's shootin' at.

For a minute I don't see anything an' then another dark shape moves against the night. Before I give myself time to think, I fire. There's another yell and some swearing. I smile. Damn, sometimes I really am good. Jake'll be impressed.

Clay slaps me on the shoulder. "Nicely done."

I don't say anything. What is there to say? I just shot two guys. I realize I don't feel anything, no guilt or worry or sorrow that I hurt someone. I'm just a little proud that I managed it. I really am a bad man, after all, aren't I?

We both crouch there and listen to the sound of scuffling and swearing. Then another horse's hooves are pounding away, must be the guy I shot decidin' enough is enough. With any luck he and his friends won't come back. I listen hard but there's no sound of anyone else movin' around. The horses settle down and everything's real quiet again.

Without waitin' for Clay, I turn back toward our camp. Jake's there when I limp back into the circle of light from the fire.

"Cougs? You all right?"

I look down at my leg, expectin' to see blood staining my pants again but there's nothing. Just hurts like a bitch. "Yeah," I say. "I'm fine."

What I really am now is tired. I sit down and poke some more wood into the fire. Jake's watchin' me. Damn, he'll want me to tell him what happened and I don't feel like talkin'.

Clay saves me.

"You're not bad with those guns, are you? I couldn't see a thing out there. Wasted all those damn bullets and didn't so much as wing even one of the bastards. You hit two."

"Best shot in the whole West," Jake says proudly.

I try not to smile but I think it slips onto my face anyway. Always does when Jake looks at me like that, like I did somethin' good.

Clay looks at me too, but he's thoughtful. "That's why I want guys like you."

"What?" Jake's confused. So am I. "You want good shots? What does that have to do with ranching?"

Clay's eyes are still on me. I wish he'd look away, he's makin' me nervous and I hate to squirm in front of Jake. "Not just good shots. I want guys who'll do whatever it takes to protect my land because it's their land as well. Cougar was good out there 'cause if we'd lost the horses, we'd be fucked. I want guys working for me who feel the same way about the ranch."

"If you lose your land and home, so do we," I say. Clay nods. I think I understand. "You want guys who don't have anywhere else to go. You want orphans who'll think of your place as home and fight to defend it."

"Think that's the most you've said since I met you," Clay grins. "But yeah, that's about right."

Jake glances at me. I look at him for a second, then down at my boots. Hell, if Clay can give us a room and a place to call home, I'll fight for it. Been fightin' my whole life, just never knew why before now.

"Sounds okay to me," I say. A yawn catches me and my eyes water. Damn, I'm tired.

"Get some sleep," Jake says instantly. "I'll keep an eye out."

"No need," Clay rumbles. "I'll do it. Need both of you in a good enough state to ride tomorrow. You've both got holes in you where there shouldn't ought to be holes. Get some rest and let 'em heal faster. God knows, you won't get much time to rest when we get home, I'll work ya harder 'an you've ever worked in your lives."

Jake snorts but lies down and rolls himself up in his blanket. After a minute, I grab mine and lie down next to him. Damn Clay and his clever plans and plots. Right now all I want is to feel Jake near me. Clay can look the other way if he doesn't wanna see it.

I hear a low laugh as I close my eyes. Clay's turned his back on us, he's looking out into the dark, toward the horses.

"We can work hard," I hear myself say. "And we'll fight for what's ours. But don't think you can scare us into doin' anything we don't want to. You can tell people about us if you want. I don't care."

I really don't. Other people might say it's wrong to want Jake the way I do but it's too late to stop now. I need him like I need a gun on each hip.

"Go to sleep," Clay says. He sounds amused again. I grind my teeth. "Still got a long way to ride 'fore we get home."

Jake presses back against me at the word 'home'. I smile into the back of his neck. Yeah, home. Might be kinda nice to have a home which doesn't involve living out of saddlebags.

I fall asleep to the sound of the fire crackling and Jake's quiet breathing.


	15. Chapter 15

Just over a week later we finally reach Clay's ranch. Colorado's as different to Kansas as I am to Jake. I can't quite believe how pretty it is. Not that I'd say that out loud, because a man has to have standards, doesn't he? I'm not the type of guy who says 'pretty'.

Jake's grumblin' about how sore his ass is by the time we get to the ranch itself. Clay stopped makin' smart jokes about that the fourth time he said it. Now he's just ignoring Jake, same way I do sometimes. To be honest, mine is kind of sore as well. We spend our lives in the saddle but it's been a long trip here and I'm tired.

As we ride up to what looks like the main house, a guy comes out and stands waiting for us. Even from up here on my horse, I can tell he's tall, far taller than me. He's got a nasty looking scar running down one side of a his face and his hands are like shovels, they're huge.

"Took you long enough," he says sourly to Clay. "Did you go by way of California?"

I half expect Clay to yell, this guy must work for him same as we kind of do now, but no, Clay just laughs.

"Did you miss me or somethin'?" He dismounts and stretches.

Jake and I do the same, guess we're at our new home. It's a strange feeling, knowin' that we won't be getting back on our horses anytime soon and headin' out who knows where. As glad as I am to finally have someplace to rest my head, all of a sudden I'm scared. I want to ride till I can't see this place anymore and I don't have to think about how much I now owe Clay.

Jake's mouth's a tight line, maybe he's thinkin' the same. I make myself grin at him.

"Home sweet home, huh?"

He nods, but doesn't say anything. Damn. He's got the wary, 'backed into a corner' look on his face.

"C'mon, Jake," I mutter, leaning close. "Pretend to be friendly, if we've got to work with other people, might as well start by bein' nice to 'em. We don't need any more enemies, do we?"

"Roque, this is Jake and Cougar," Clay says loudly, pointin' at each of us in turn. "Guys, this is Roque. He runs the place when I'm gone."

"Run it when you're here, too," Roque says. Clay laughs again. Roque looks me and Jake up an' down. "What are you two supposed to be?"

"They're our new hands," Clay grins.

Roque raises both eyebrows. "Are you kidding me? Look at 'em. They're both 'bout as fat as the wind, how're they gonna cope working all day? I could snap that one without even trying." He points at me.

Now, I might have less of a temper than Jake but I do get angry sometimes. "Hey," I hear myself saying. "We can work just fine. An' if you feel like trying to snap me in half, I'd invite you to give it a shot."

Clay grins at Jake. "Make him mad and he talks. I'll have to remember that."

Jake doesn't smile but his mouth is less worried. Over the years I've learned to read all Jake's different expressions pretty well. I bite my lip as I suddenly want to find someplace private and get his clothes off.

"There a place we can wash up?" I ask.

"Take care of your horses and I'll show you your new home," Clay jerks a thumb over his shoulder. "Stable's that way. Roque'll be around if you need anything and can't find it."

"You gonna see Pooch?" Roque asks.

Clay nods. "Won't be long."

I wonder why Clay's so keen to see a dog, but figure it's better not to ask too many questions, seeing as we're the new guys around here. Jake doesn't bother with such reservations.

"You missed your dog that much, you have to go see him right now?"

Clay and Roque both laugh. Jake frowns at me, clearly askin' what he said that was funny.

"Pooch is a guy," Clay grins after a minute. "Obviously not his real name."

"Oh," for once Jake seems lost for words. "All right then."

"Come on," Roque turns away from us. "Stables are this way."

We follow him and see to the horses. Jake's is still an evil-tempered thing, the journey here didn't improve it's personality any. I've gotten a little fond of mine and rub her neck.

"Thanks for getting us here," I whisper into her ear, 'cause a man can talk to a horse when he can't talk to another guy. "Hope it works out okay. You think we'll make ranchers?" She noses at my pockets, looking for food. I smile. "I'll bring you somethin' later, okay?"

"You two done?" Roque asks.

"Done," Jake says, giving his horse one last glare. He's still got his arm in a sling but he's moving it pretty well, managed to get his saddle off and everything so maybe that bullet hole will be healed up soon.

"What happened to you?" Roque nods at Jake's shoulder.

"Got in the way of a bullet," Jake replies with a smile I know is false. "Nearly healed now."

Roque shakes his head. "Clay's a sucker for lost puppies. Let me guess, you got no place else to go, right?"

I glance at Jake, then shrug a little. What does it matter if Roque knows a bit about us? This is home now, after all.

"That's right," I say, trying to sound friendly. "New start."

Roque laughs. "Clay's such a soft touch." His face goes hard and he takes a step closer. "This is my home too. Whoever you are, whatever you did before you came here, I don't give a shit. But do anything to this place and I'll gladly kill you. Understand?"

Yeah, I understand. Roque's another one of Clay's orphans. He's as scared of being back out on the land without a place to call home as we are. Clay's a clever man, bring guys who don't have a place anywhere else together and let 'em make their own home. Give 'em a taste of a little bit of security and they'll fight like wildcats to keep it.

"We understand," Jake says.

"Good," Roque grins. It's a quick flash of teeth, not warm at all, slightly worrying. "Come on, I'll show you around. We need all the hands we can get. Clay's picky 'bout who he employs, so we're always doing the work of about three men each. You'll soon get used to having blisters on your hands."

"Better there than on my ass," Jake mutters as we follow Roque out of the stables.

I smile. If he's sayin' stuff like that, Jake's starting to settle down a bit. The knot in my chest loosens slightly.

The ranch ain't much too look at, a few rough timber buildings, cookhouse, a well. Roque points out one particular cabin.

"That's mine. Set a foot inside it and I'll take that foot off. Clear?"

"You're a very possessive man, aren't you?" Jake says, cocking his head to one side and staring at Roque.

There's that smile again, all teeth. Reminds me of a coyote. "You bet I am," Roque says.

Jake grins and looks at the next little cabin. "That one Clay's?"

"Yeah," Roque replies. "How'd you know?"

"Lucky guess," Jake says, shrugging.

Roque frowns a little, I don't think he knows what to make of Jake yet. Not many people do. Sometimes I wonder whether I'm the only person who's ever bothered to really listen to him.

"This is yours," Roque's saying, so I stop daydreamin' and pay attention. "Not like I knew you were coming, so it might need cleaning out a bit but that won't hurt you. And don't come complaining to me if it ain't as luxurious as you'd like. This ain't a hotel, you only get to keep this place if you work for it."

I'm half listening to him. The rest of me's looking at the little cabin he's pointing at. It's small and a bit worn and looks like it needs a good clean up but...damn. It's perfect. I feel Jake go still beside me, he's thinking the same, I reckon.

"Dump your stuff in here, then come find me," Roque says. "I'll show you round the rest of the place. I'll probably be in the cookhouse so just follow your noses."

I nod, but don't look away from the door in front of me.

"Home sweet home, huh?" Jake says quietly when Roque's gone.

I blink. Yeah. Home.

"Well, just staring at it ain't gonna help, is it," Jake grumbles. He pushes me out of the way and opens the door.

Roque's right, it does need cleaning. There's dust on the floor and it rises in clouds as Jake walks in.

"Bunks," he grins. "Well, we'll figure somethin' out, right?"

"Won't fit in one," I say.

Jake moves fast, swinging the door shut behind me and blockin' the rest of the world from view. His hand's in my hair before I know it and he's kissing me like he's a dying man and I'm water.

"I'll make you a bigger bed," he all but growls against my neck. "Whatever you want. Just tell me, Cougs. Whatever you want, I'll do it."

I don't know what I want, but right now shoving both our pants down and out of the way seems like a good idea.

"God, yes," Jake groans, as I lick my palm and wrap it round both of us. "Been too long. Clay always watchin', felt wrong to even get my own hand down there."

I drag my hand upwards and he shudders, droppin' his forehead against mine.

"Cougs," he says, kissin' me at the same time.

I move my hand faster, it ain't gonna take long, not when neither of us have done this for a while.

It seems like only a minute or two but Jake groans my name again and shakes in my arms, then relaxes and goes limp. I push him back toward the bunk and he just manages to collapse onto it without smacking his head on the top bed.

I wipe my hand on my spare shirt, I'll wash it soon anyway, it's as dirty as the one I'm wearin'.

Jake's watchin' me, a little smile on his face. "Been wanting to do that since before Abilene. Actually," he corrects himself, rubbing his eyes. "Been wanting to get you on a bed and fuck you since Abilene but that was good enough for now." He breathes out a long sigh. "You think we'll be okay, here?"

"Yeah," I croak, still caught up in his words. God, that bed's lookin' more inviting by the minute. "We'll be fine. Just gotta get that shoulder healed up."

"And your leg," Jake reminds me. "Sorry again for causing that."

I smile and look down at my thigh. The skin's starting to pucker and draw together, doesn't hurt as much now. "Doesn't matter. If you hadn't blown that jail up, I'd be dead now."

Jake swallows and his eyes go hard for a minute. "Don't know what I'd do if...not that it ever will happen, we're too good to get caught again, aren't we?"

I nod and hope I'm bein' truthful. "Too good." I grin. "And besides, we're law-abiding ranch hands now."

"Yeah," Jake smiles a tired-out smile which makes him look 'bout fifteen years old. "Law-abiding men, that's us. How about that?" He sucks at his bottom lip, which makes me wonder whether I could get hard again this soon. "We're gonna be okay, right, Cougs?"

"Yeah, 'course," I reply, lookin' away from that mouth, too damn distracting. "We're gonna be fine."

Jake leans back on his hands and looks around the cabin. "Home."

His eyes are big and amazed. How long has it been since he had any place to call home, I wonder. At least I had the orphanage, back in the day. Wonder whether Jake ever had a roof over his head?

"Home," I say firmly. "We won't mess this up. Clay wants guys who're willing to fight for this place, well, I'm willing."

"Me too," Jake nods. He smiles at me again. "Guess we can make it nice in here, huh? Clean it up a little and wash the window so we can actually see out of it."

"Make a table," I say, gettin' into the spirit of things. "Couple o' chairs, maybe. And we can get a stove. Clay must have one around somewhere he don't need right now. We'll freeze our asses off in winter otherwise."

"True," Jake says, scratching his chin. "Okay, we need a broom, stove and water for washin' stuff."

"And a bath," I add, sniffin' myself.

"Yeah," Jake grins, "and a bath. We could share. Save on water. Very clever of us. Clay should thank us."

I laugh. Somehow I don't think Clay would be too happy to see the two of us squeezed into a bath together.

Then again, I could be wrong. The look on Roque's face when he showed us his cabin, right next to Clay's...I shake my head. Just 'cause me and Jake think like that 'bout each other, don't stand to reason anyone else does. Roque's probably just protective of his boss. He's the type to be like that, I think.

"Guess we should go find Roque before he figures we've upped and run away," Jake says, slidin' off the bunk. "Best look like we're keen to learn, huh?"

I nod. To be honest, I think I am keen. Never really had much chance to learn new things. This ranching stuff might be fun. I turn toward the door but Jake catches my arm and pulls me back to face him. Even with one hand stuck in a sling, he's still strong.

"We'll be fine," he says, real soft and low, leaning in close. "We'll be fine, won't we, Cougs?"

I kiss him, slow and long. He's scared and it's my job to make that fear go away. "Yes, Jake. We'll be fine."


	16. Chapter 16

'Pooch' turns out to be a nice guy with a big happy smile. He greets us like we're his long lost brothers, with backslaps and laughter.

His wife, Jolene lives here too. She's the cook and mending person and the woman to see if either of us gets hurt, according to Pooch.

It seems like we've only been at the ranch for five minutes but somehow before I know it, it's gettin' dark and Jolene's banging on the dinner bell. I sit next to Jake in the cookhouse, his thigh's crushed right up against mine. There's plenty of room, he doesn't need to be this close, but all the same, I'm glad he is.

"Not much to do around here once the daylight goes," Clay says through a mouthful of stew. "If you've got any sense, you'll hit the hay early and rest up. You start work tomorrow."

"When do we get paid?" Jake asks, tearing bread apart with his teeth. Clay snorts into his stew and ignores him.

The bread's still warm and soft and tastes better than anythin' else I've ever eaten. I nod a little at Jolene, she smiles and nods back. I think this is the first time I've ever really enjoyed food this much. Most times it's just a case of eatin' enough to keep myself going. The food back at the orphanage wasn't terrible but it wasn't great either. Here they seem to actually enjoy dinner. Clay's attacking his food like someone's gonna steal it. I spoon more stew into my mouth, it's good, I can see why Pooch married Jolene.

"You're all bones," she says, frownin' at me and Jake. "You need feeding up a bit."

"Why do people keep saying that?" Jake asks indignantly.

I smile, Jake's funny when he's like this.

"Oh, I don't know," Jolene retorts, then reaches out to poke at Jake's ribs. "Maybe 'cause I can count these."

"Hey," Jake squirms away and ends up almost sitting in my lap. "I'm okay, poke Cougar, he's the skinny one."

"Traitor," I say, and shove Jake back to his place on the bench.

Everyone laughs and for a minute it's overwhelming. The little room is full of the sound, it bounces off the walls. I look around, Clay's smiling, Pooch is still laughing and even Roque's grim mask has cracked into a grin. I realize that they're laughing with us, not at us. That's never happened to me before. It's as though we're with people who like us, like we've got friends. I put my spoon down, suddenly too choked up to eat.

Jake's hand sneaks to find my knee under the table and squeezes hard. He feels the same, 'course he does.

Somehow we make it through the rest of dinner. I don't think I remember much of it, still too caught up with thinkin' about where we are.

Before I know it, we're back in the little cabin we can now call home.

Jake doesn't slam the door shut this time. He closes it quietly and comes to sit beside me. We lean against each other.

"That was...different." Jake says eventually.

I nod.

"Felt like they wanted us there." Jake sounds as amazed as me.

I nod again.

"Stew was nice."

I smile and laugh a little. Trust Jake.

"Let's go to bed." He's tugging me up, pullin' me to my feet. "You heard Clay, gotta get some rest, gotta start work tomorrow." He rolls his eyes. "As though we can't handle whatever he throws at us."

Privately I wonder whether we'll cope as easily as Jake thinks we will, but I don't bother to say anythin'. I'm suddenly bone tired and it's as much as I can do to drag my shirt and pants off.

We tumble into bed, both somehow squeezing into the narrow bottom bunk. It ain't comfortable and Jake's lying on my arm, so it'll be numb in no time, but I smile and press my mouth to his shoulder.

"Night, Jake."

"Night, Cougar."


	17. Chapter 17

**M/M smut in this chapter**

The next few weeks pass in a blur. I think I underestimated just how hard ranching is. We're up before dawn and fall into bed just after dusk, too tired to even touch each other some nights.

Jake's shoulder's almost healed, he gets rid of the sling and starts using his arm properly again, even though I glare at him for it.

"What?" he says, flexing his shoulder carefully one evening.

We're back in our cabin and I'm swaying on my feet, desperate to get into bed.

"It's all healed now. I'm okay. Look." He strips off his shirt and tries to peer at his own shoulder. "Better now, see?"

I blink at him. No matter how many times I see Jake with no clothes on, it still makes me feel a little...I don't know. It's like I'm excited, my stomach's all churned up and I can feel my fingers tingling.

He grabs my hand and smoothes my thumb over the bullet scar.

"See? It'll be gone in no time."

"Yeah," I nod, my mouth's really dry.

Jake smiles. I rest my other hand on his waist and lean just a little closer to him. There's skin slippin' against my shirt, Jake smells of horses and sweat and what we had for dinner and everything else I now associate with home. Without thinkin', I kiss him under his jaw. He shivers a bit and pulls me tighter against him.

I kiss him again, this time scraping my teeth down his neck a little, I know he likes that. His Adam's apple bobs as he swallows. Eyes which are still too blue to be real stare into mine and he grins.

"Gonna have your way with me, cowboy?"

I grin and look down at the floor, "Maybe." Then I ruin the mood by yawning so wide I feel like my jaw might give way.

Jake laughs. "Not tonight, you're not. Come on, bed."

"'m'okay," I mumble as he pushes me toward the bunks.

"I know," he smiles and it's one of the gentle ones I don't get to see very often. "But I'm tired as well, remember? And Clay wants to show us the furthest fields tomorrow. Said we'll be riding all day so we'd better get some sleep now, huh?"

"Fine," I mutter and squirm as far over on the bunk as I can.

Jake hops in as well, it's still a tight squeeze but neither of us like the idea of sleepin' apart. We'll get round to makin' a different bed. Real big one with a feather mattress. I smile at the thought of sinking into all that softness, God, we need a proper bed and soon.

"You dreamin' about beds again?" Jake's mouth moves against my hair.

"Nothin' wrong with that," I say. I know I'm slurring my words, I'm so tired.

"No, sir," Jake agrees. "Nothing wrong with that at all."

I think I fall asleep between one breath and the next cause I don't remember anythin' more till the sun wakes me the next morning. Jake's curled into my side like a puppy and for a minute I just lie there, quiet and still. The early mornin' light just reaches our bunk and it's turning Jake's hair gold. I smile a little. Damn, he's still the best looking thing I've ever seen.

Clay breaks the magic by bangin' on our door and yelling, "Come on, you two, wakey wakey! We need to get movin'! Get your asses out of bed and meet me in the cookhouse."

Jake startles awake with a confused, "Wha'?"

"Time to get up," I say.

He blinks at me for a minute as he wakes up. "Right."

He starts to swing his legs over the side of the bunk but I stop him. I want to keep this for a minute longer, the feel of him right up against me, warm and solid.

Another one of those smiles shines up at me. I kiss him, slow and sweet. I probably taste bad but Jake ain't complainin'. His hand snakes round the back of my neck and pulls me closer. I'm hard and his leg is in just the right spot. Movin' my hips a few times gets a chuckle from him.

"Makin' up for what you missed out on last night?"

"Maybe."

He turns to face me. Still amazes me just how well we fit together. Like we were cut from the same rock, our arms and legs just tangle together perfectly. Jake pushes his hips forward and arches his back a bit.

I try not to make any noise 'cause that'd be tellin' the world just what he does to me and I don't think I want anyone else to know that. I shake my head at myself. Even in our own little cabin I don't feel completely safe.

"Stop worrying," Jake mutters, grabbing my chin and pullin' my face down for another kiss.

His cock lines up with mine and I make a noise which might be a gasp. He smiles against my mouth and licks my lips.

"C'mon, Cougs."

I wrap my arms round him best as I can and just let go. I feel him push a hand between us after a while. Just havin' him touching me is enough to make me see stars. A few long pulls and a kiss on my neck and I squeeze my eyes shut as I come. I hear myself panting like I just wrestled a bear.

Jake pushes his hips forward a few more times, slick in the mess I just made. He moans a little and I grip his hair to pull his head back. I like lookin' at him when he's close. His eyes are all dazed and his mouth hangs open. 'S'like an invitation. Wish I could get it up again but it ain't happening this fast.

Instead I kiss him hard and grab at his ass, pullin' him against me. He moans again and shudders, workin' his hips all the time. His eyes shoot open as he finishes and then he's gasping for breath too.

We lie there for a minute, then Jake sniffs. "Good morning to you, too."

I laugh and shove him out of bed. "Clay's already been here once, if we don't go meet him soon he'll be on the warpath."

Jake curses at the chilly morning air and drags on his clothes after wiping the mess off his stomach. I watch him for a minute. I know I think about him too much but he's the bright spot in the dark. I can't get enough of lookin' at him.

"You gonna lie there all day, Cougs?" he grins at me. "I'll drink all the coffee Jolene's made if you do."

Ha, fat chance of that. Jolene's coffee is one of the best things I've ever tasted. I'm out of bed and dressed in the time it takes him to get his boots on.

"You're slow," I say.

He narrows his eyes at me and throws a quick pretend punch. I block it but he keeps hold of my wrist and drags me close.

"I'll get you for that, later," he says. His eyes are doing the sparkling, snapping thing they do when he's havin' fun.

I grin back. I'm countin' on it.


	18. Chapter 18

"So how're you two settling in?" Clay throws the question back to us as we follow him away from the ranch-houses.

"We're doin' okay," Jake replies after a wary look at me. I shrug, maybe Clay's just makin' idle conversation.

"That's good," Clay says, but doesn't add anything else.

He wasn't lying when he said we'd be riding most of the day, it takes us till noon to get to the furthest point of his land.

"Gotta check the fences," Clay says slidin' out of his saddle. "Don't get out here much so it's gotta be done right."

Jake and I nod and dismount too. I try not to groan as my back aches, I must be out of condition or something.

"Here," Jake hands me a water bottle. "Gettin' old and creaky? You'll be needing me to put your boots on for you soon, old man."

I narrow my eyes at him, he smiles back. I like it when he's like this. When he makes fun of me, it means he's feelin' okay.

"When you two are done flirting like a couple of girls at a dance hall, there's work to do," Clay says.

I grin and catch the hammer Clay tosses to me. Jake's smiling too. What with the sun on our backs and honest work to do for once, I feel pretty damn good. I only hope it lasts.


	19. Chapter 19

First time I realize somethin's up is when Jake stops talking and nudges me. I look up from the fence I'm mending and see that there's a bunch of men riding up the slope toward us.

Somethin' about these guys don't seem good, the way they sit in their saddles, too easy to be men who don't ride all day everyday. I eyeball their guns, not fancy, any of 'em. But they look well oiled and cared for. They look like mine. That's a worrisome thought. If these men are like me, they ain't good people to have on Clay's land.

The leading guy stops and peels off his riding gloves. "Well, well, Franklin Clay, what a surprise seeing you here."

There's a smile on the man's face but it ain't a nice one. Makes me think of snakes and dead things and I shiver despite the sun burnin' my neck. Jake doesn't move but I can feel him wanting to. His eyes are on the guy too.

"Max." Clay's voice is flat and hard. "I told you before, you piece of shit, get off my land and don't come back. It's not for sale, not to you, not to anyone. If you try anything, I'll kill ya."

"Oh, I'm sure you would if you could," Max's smile doesn't slip.

His voice is soft and kind of cultured, like he's a gentleman. But one look at his eyes is enough to tell me there ain't no gentlemanly thoughts in that head of his. He's starin' at Clay like he's something bad on the sole of his boot.

"And who are these two fine men?" Max asks, lookin' at me and Jake.

"Nobody you need to worry about," Clay says before Jake gets a chance to open his mouth. "Just a couple of hands."

"Found 'em in Hays City, did you?" Max smiles wider. "Yeah, I know you went down there. Not a very clever move, Clay. Leaving your precious land uncared for while you're off having a good time with old friends." He tut-tuts, "Not wise at all."

"You try and take it, I'll cut your fingers off one by one," Clay says.

I think he means it. I'm impressed, takes guts to make threats and mean 'em.

"Now why do you think I travel with these fine men at my back?" Max jerks his head at the big men behind him. "I know you think you're a hard man, Clay. You probably are, but never forget, whatever you're capable of, I can do far worse." He leans forward over his horse's neck. "I'll have this land if it kills me. If it kills you in the process, so much the better. And don't think your little pet gunmen will save you. I'd back my boys against yours any day."

Jake grinds his teeth beside me. I need to tell him to stop doin' that, he's gonna do some real damage.

I swallow down sudden worry. Why do we always find trouble? All we were doin' was fixing fences. How are we in the middle of a land battle now? I shoot a glare at Clay. He didn't mention that anyone was after his territory, did he? Now I know why he wanted to make sure we'd fight for this place. He expected us to have to. Bastard.

Max turns his smile on me an' Jake. "You two look like handy enough men to have around. If you want some proper pay, come see me."

I raise my eyebrows. Max winks at me. I think I feel a bit dirty even lookin' into the man's eyes.

"We're fine here, thanks," I say. Jake nods beside me.

"Shame," Max shakes his head in mock-sorrow. "I won't offer again, boys. You're against me now. Not a good move to make."

Jake frowns. "Just who do you think you are?"

Max stares at him. "I'm the richest man you'll ever see in your pathetic mud-sucking life. I buy people like you every day. Don't go thinking you can help dear old Clay, kid. He's just being a stubborn ass. I'll get this little corner of Colorado in the end. If all of you are buried in it, well," he shrugs again, "never mind, eh?"

I drop my hand to my right gun and run my fingers along the grip. I know I'd do more harm than good if I shot Max right now, but the way he's lookin' at Jake makes me want to.

"Get out of here," Clay says, stepping forward and trying to sound in control again. "Set foot on my land again, I'll kill you, I mean it."

"Aw, Clay," Max sounds almost fond. I begin to wonder whether he's a little crazy. "You know you won't hurt me. You enjoy our little meetings too much." The snake smile is back on his face and it scares me.

Max wheels his horse around and kicks it into a hard canter. His men trail after him and they're out of sight in a few minutes.

Clay leans against one of the fence posts and blows out a breath.

Jake fixes him with a stare and says, "What the hell was that?"

It takes ten heartbeats for Clay to answer. I know 'cause I can hear my own thumping in my chest.

"Max is a bastard."

"We figured that much out for ourselves, thanks," Jake says, his voice like cracking ice. "What exactly does he want this land for?"

Clay looks at us. All of a sudden, his face is lined and worn. He looks like he's had a hard life. I wonder whether I look like that sometimes.

"He thinks there's gold around here." Clay shakes his head. "I don't know whether it's true or not."

"He's been coming here for a while?" Jake asks.

"Yeah," Clay replies wearily. "Since I bought the place. Guess he figures I stole it out from underneath him. The old guy who owned it before hated Max as much as I do and wouldn't let him buy it no matter how much he offered. Gave it to me for next to nothin'. I think Max figures that's a personal insult."

"So," I say slowly, "you didn't want new ranch hands. You just needed hired guns to protect your land?"

"Now don't get all prickly," Clay mutters, grabbin' up a hammer and turning back to the fence. "What I said was true, I do need more people to help run this place. If those people are handy with a gun, well, that's not a bad thing."

I purse my lips. I'm not getting all prickly. To be honest I don't think I really mind that Clay hired us knowing we'd probably end up fighting one way or another. It was inevitable, I guess. After all, who really wants two outlaws on their ranch, workin' for 'em? There's gotta be a reason and now his 'I want you to fight for the place as hard as I will...' speech makes more sense.

Somehow, even in the short space of time we've been here, this place has become our home. Well, mine at least but I'm certain if I stay, Jake will. I look up at the mountains towerin' above us in the distance. They're nicer than prairie dust and our little cabin with our too-small bunk is preferable to sleepin' on the ground.

"If Max comes back and tries to make trouble," I say, "I'll help get rid of him."

Jake nods beside me.

Clay looks relieved. Maybe he really thought we'd up and leave. As though we would, now we've tasted Jolene's cookin'.

"Well, come on, then," he says after a minute. He's gone back to bein' gruff again. "Help me with these damn fences and we can go back down to the houses."

Jake bends to grab a hammer and nails. I look down the slope, followin' the track Max and his friends left. There's no sign of 'em now, but somethin' tells me we've got trouble headed our way. Anyone who wants something as bad as Max wants this piece o' land is gonna be willin' to do some crazy things to get it. I know I won't be sleepin' as easy as I have been the last few weeks. Damn Max and his greedy ideas. He's interrupting my little slice of heaven. Just for that, I'll kill the bastard.

We finish up workin' on the fences and head back down to the ranch houses. Its almost dusk by the time we get there an' I can smell Jolene's cooking from at least a mile away.

Jake looks at me as we ride toward the stable. He's got the determined set to his mouth which says he's decided on somethin'. I nod, I know what he's thinkin' about. He'll fight for this place as much as I will and if we die here, at least it's better than dying out on some nameless prairie.

Clay dismounts with a groan and looks up at us both, real stern. "Don't mention Max to Jolene. You'll scare her and God help you if you do that. Pooch looks like a nice guy but he can fight as well as anyone. Understand?"

We both mutter our agreement. Yeah, I understand, Max scared me, what with those eyes of his and that smile on his face.

Clay leaves his horse with us and vanishes. I guess he's gone to find Roque an' tell him that Max has been sniffing around again.

Jake and I take care of the horses in silence for a while. Then Jake says, "It's worth fighting for, this place, isn't it?"

"If there's gold, you bet it's worth fighting for," I say.

"That's not what I mean an' you know it." He shoves me and I grin.

"Yeah, I know what you mean," I admit, talkin' to my horse's neck rather than lookin' in Jake's eyes. "This is a good place, better than most we've seen. Makes more sense to die here 'an it does to get shot by some bounty hunter or deputy." I don't add that this place is the best home I've ever known, that'd sound a little over the top, I think.

Jake pats his horse and moves on to Clay's. "So we'll stay. You never know, that stuff about there bein' gold here might be true. We could be rich."

I smile at the thought of us bein' rich. The way Jake spends money when he has it, any gold we found wouldn't last us very long.

"Don't you go laughing at me," Jake smiles. "I can dream, glory and riches, it might happen one day."

I nod, yes, it could happen. More likely we'll end up dead though. But I don't say that, don't want to wipe the happy look off of Jake's face. It when he looks like that that I think maybe I'm not such a bad man after all. If I can make one person happy, that's enough to send me to heaven eventually, isn't it?

"You think Max might try to cause trouble round here?" Jake's serious again.

"I don't know," I shrug. We both know I mean yes.

"Great," Jake sighs, all the smiles gone. "Just great. We can't go anywhere without trouble followin' us, can we?"

No, we can't. But I pull Jake into a quick kiss, I hate it when he looks miserable.

"We gonna stay and fight?" he asks quietly, not lettin' go of me.

"Maybe," I say.

He grins, "Cougar Alvarez, the master of not answering a question."

"Worth fighting for," I say, more firmly this time. "We still need to build that bed. Nobody's takin' my cabin away, okay?"

"My cabin too," Jake reminds me, his hand sliding down to pat my ass. "An' I'll kill anyone who tries to take it."

"Sounds like we're stayin', then."

"I guess we are."

"Clay'll be pleased."

"Tricky bastard."

I smile, even if there's a fight coming, as long as Jake's standin' next to me, I'll gladly face it.


	20. Chapter 20

It's real quiet over the next few weeks, we don't see Max again. Jake and me, we just go on learning as much as we can about how to work the land and deal with the animals Clay's got. Jake's pretty good when it comes to cattle but awful at sowing and tending seed. He just doesn't have the patience for it. I like it, makes me feel like I'm doin' something honest for once.

Jake takes to callin' me 'Cougar o' the hills', says I fit into Colorado better than I fit anyplace else. I don't tell him, but I kinda like it. Better to be Cougar o' the hills than Cougar Alvarez, wanted outlaw.

After a couple of weeks of gettin' up before dawn and stumbling to bed too tired to think, I've almost forgotten all about Max and his snake smile.

We're sittin' in the cookhouse, trying to blink ourselves awake enough to enjoy Jolene's breakfast when somethin' crashes through one of the windows and skids down the table.

Clay curses and runs outside to find out what happened. Roque shoves Jolene back against the wall. I don't know what he expects to happen but I'm not surprised at him bein' worried about her, she told us a couple days ago she and Pooch are expectin' a baby. It was the best news I'd heard in ages.

Pooch and Jake both reach for the thing on the table, Jake gets there first.

"Just a rock," he says, weighin' it in one hand. "Nothin' else."

"Why throw it through our window?" Pooch asks, looking completely confused.

Jake looks at me, I can see what he's thinkin', sometimes his face is like an open book. I nod, he's right, it's a distraction. It's what I'd do if I wanted to cause trouble.

We're both on our feet and runnin' outside to find Clay inside a minute.

I hear Roque growl, "Stay here," to Jolene an' then he's pounding after us.

It don't take much to figure out where Clay is. One of the barns is on fire. Shit.

"The well!" Roque shouts.

Jake and me are already runnin' toward it, there are buckets nearby and we start hauling up water as fast as we can. I throw a look at the barn, there's flames eating up one side of it. Clay's there with a wet sack, tryin' to beat out the fire at ground level but he's fightin' a losing battle.

"Keep goin'," I yell at Jake and grab up a bucket. It feels like a bad dream, like I'm movin' through molasses or something. I suddenly realize just how much this place means to me. I'll kill Max myself for this, it can't be anyone else's doing.

Pooch takes the bucket out of my hand and shoves me back toward Jake.

"Get more!" he yells, and I can see the blind panic in his eyes. This is where he and his wife plan to have a family, he's got even more to lose than me an' Jake.

It's lucky the well ain't too far from the barn, between us, Jake, me and Pooch manage to make a line and keep the buckets heading to Clay and Roque. They're like men possessed, everywhere at once, throwin' water on some bits of the barn, soaking the wood, stamping out flames, beatin' 'em out with their bare hands at times.

I feel like we've been passing buckets between us forever, but it can't have been more than half an hour. Clay stands back and looks up at the barn. The flames are out as far as I can see, thank God.

Jake stops handing me buckets and leans against the well, gaspin' for breath. "It out?" he asks.

I nod, "Yeah, think so."

We stumble toward Clay and Roque, who're breathing just as hard. Clay wipes a hand over his face and leaves a trail of soot and dirt behind.

"Max?" Roque asks.

"Who else?" Clay replies.

"What're we gonna do?" Pooch says, his chest heavin'.

"How about we set Max on fire?" Jake suggests. I think I'm the only one who doesn't think he's joking.

Clay's eyes are like stones.

"What's he hope to get from all this?" Pooch asks, staring at the barn.

"He wants to scare us off," Roque growls. "Still thinks he can get some gold out of this place."

"We're not going anywhere though, are we?" Jake says, lookin' at me first.

"Hell, no," Clay shakes his head. "He ain't gonna shake me loose from here without a fight."

"Should we pay him a visit?" I've seen folks with more frightening looks on their faces than Roque, but not many.

Clay's quiet for a long time. We all wait for him to say somethin', don't know why. It ain't as if he's in charge of us or anything. But all the same, when he shakes his head, I let go of the breath I've been holding.

"No. He's probably waiting for us to do something like that. He's got more men and more guns than us. If we go after him, he'll just kill us and say we attacked him first. He's a big enough name around here, nobody'll argue with him."

Jake makes a disgusted noise and turns away. Probably thinks Clay's bein' a coward or something. I think about stopping him but for once he's wrong. Clay's got the right idea, if we try to go after Max, it'll be just what he wants.

Clay frowns and heads for his cabin.

I glance at Pooch. He bites his lip and shrugs.

"Hey, what can I do? I'd love to put a bullet in Max as much as the next guy, but I got a family to think about now."

He shakes his head and wanders off back to the cookhouse. Jolene's peering out of the door, her hand pressed tight to her stomach.

Roque stares at me for a minute. I think maybe he's trying to find the words to say somethin', but he just turns away.

I stare up at the barn. We saved most of it, but it'll need some re-building. I've never built a barn before. Somethin' else I'll learn. But for now there's animals need feeding and chores to do. I head to the stables to check on the horses.

Max has made himself a whole load of enemies. But it occurs to me, maybe that was the point.


	21. Chapter 21

I happen across Clay a couple of days later. He's in the haybarn, shifting the winter feed around. I nod a greeting and grab a pitchfork to help.

It's not hard work, easy enough. After a while, Clay stops.

"Max won't stop at anything to get what he wants."

I nod, that figures.

"What are you gonna do about him?" I ask, when it's clear Clay's waitin' for an answer.

"I don't know," he replies, shaking his head. "I'd like to just ride over to his place and put a bullet in the bastard but I don't think that'd help much. He'd just make sure I took the blame for it and ended up at the end of a rope."

"Probably," I agree. "But if we leave him, he'll keep comin' after this place and won't stop till we're either dead or just gone."

Clay smiles. "We?"

I feel my face heat up a little. I turn away, "Yeah, we'll help, me an' Jake. This is as good a place as any to call home."

"Figured it would be." Clay's still smiling at me. "A man can't run forever, can he?"

I shrug, don't really want to be talking about this without Jake nearby.

"You two better be more careful."

I frown, I don't know what Clay means.

"Max. He knows me and Roque and Pooch. Knows we're not gonna leave without a fight. He already hates us for it but aside from killing us, or burning the place down around our ears, there's not a whole lot he can do to hurt us."

"Sounds like plenty to me," I grunt.

Clay laughs. "There's worse things than dying, believe me."

I know that already, I remember all the times I've wondered whether I'm gonna see Jake alive again. But Clay doesn't need to know that, so I stay quiet.

"You and Jake are a mystery to him," Clay goes on. "He don't know anything much about you, save for the fact you turned him down when he offered you work. He'll bear a grudge, believe me. If he's gonna come after anyone, chances are it'll be you two. I guess he'll figure to take my hired guns out of the picture and then just deal with the rest of us as and when."

I raise an eyebrow. "Not just guns."

"I know that," Clay snaps. "But Max won't think that way, he don't care about the people who work for him. He'll aim to hit you and Jake first, mark my words. So just...I don't know. Be careful."

I smile. "Sounds like you're gettin' fond of us."

He rolls his eyes and gets back to the hay.

"Max knows I went to Hays City and came back with you two."

My heart sinks a little. "So?"

"So, he knows a lot of bad people, I think. Wouldn't surprise me if he knows Wade, the sheriff in Hays."

"The guy who checks wanted posters."

Clay nods. "Yeah, him. Might not take Max too much effort to find out who you and Jake are."

I suddenly think of bounty hunters and jail cells. My throat goes dry. Shit. That'd be my worst nightmare come true. I've only just found a home, losin' it already would hurt too much. And Jake. God, Jake. I couldn't stand by and watch him thrown into jail.

"What do we do?" I hate asking anybody for advice but Clay's different.

"I don't know," he says quietly. "Guess a man's past catches up with him eventually. But you might as well run as long as you can before it does. Just keep an eye out and a gun handy, I guess. I don't know what Max is gonna do next, but it'd be a pain in my ass if he managed to get you and Jake into trouble."

He goes back to movin' the hay around and I figure that's as much as I'm gonna get out of him.

After a few minutes I let my pitchfork fall to the floor and head to find Jake. I don't wanna run away from Max just 'cause he thinks he's a big man who can do whatever he wants to decent people. But at the same time, if he finds out who me and Jake are...I think of prison cells and not bein' able to touch Jake and shiver. We need to do something about the slimy bastard, and the sooner the better in my opinion.


	22. Chapter 22

Jake confuses me. Sometimes he's as peaceful as the next guy, happy just to be here, carving out a little slice of life for himself. Other days he's as ornery as a man can be, itching for a fight and ready to start one with just about anybody, even me.

I tell him about Clay's warning, and ask what he thinks we should do.

"Find Max and fill the bastard," he replies, not lookin' me in the eye. "This ain't his to mess up. We're not doing anythin' wrong, he ain't got no call to come causing trouble for us. If he wants to make somethin' of what we've done in the past, well, all right, let him. But I'll kill him myself 'fore he drags me out of this place." He looks at me, his eyes are that flat blue which remind me he's shot men before.

I nod slowly, buyin' myself a little thinking time. Clay's planted a seed of worry in my gut, it's growing and I don't think it'll stop till we do something 'bout Max.

"Come on, Cougar," Jake says, he sounds impatient with me now. "You're not really scared of that asshole, are you?"

"No," I say, though I am, a little bit.

He shakes his head and clenches both fists. "Let's you an' me go pay Max a little visit. I'm sure we can convince him to leave this place alone. We're bad men, after all, ain't we?"

"Bad but not stupid," I say before I can bite my tongue enough to keep the words locked away. "We go see Max and we might as well walk into the closest jail and give ourselves up. He's got more guns than us, what do you think we'd be able to do?"

"Something," Jake spits. "Better 'an just sitting here, waiting for Max to set somethin' else on fire. Might be our cabin next time, huh? That gonna rile you up or are you as scared of this guy as Clay is?"

I try not to let him get me angry but the thing 'bout Jake is he knows exactly how to get under my skin and make me mad. Before I know what I'm doing, I've got two handfuls of his shirt and he's close enough for our noses to touch.

"I'm not scared of Max."

I'm not, I'm scared of what he might be able to do to us.

"But I ain't gonna go running off to take him on in a fight we can't win. Clay's not dumb and he's no coward, he knows if he tries to go to war with Max, he'll lose everythin' he's kept so far. Ain't a case of wanting to protect his own hide, he's thinkin' of keeping everybody here safe, too. You wanna get Jolene hurt? You wanna see her bury Pooch? 'Cause if we go and give Max the fight he wants, chances are we'll all die. Maybe nobody'll mourn you and me, but Pooch has a family that needs him."  
I stop, I'm breathing hard and my eyes are watering. "Wish I hadn't said nothin' 'bout what Clay told me."

I half expect Jake to turn his back on me and ignore me for the rest of the day, but he smiles, which throws me a little.

"Think that's more words than I've heard you say in one go for months."

Sometimes I think he's making fun of me for the fact I don't always say a lot. But he slides a hand round the back of my neck and kisses me hard. Nah, not making fun this time.

"I know Clay's not a coward," he's whispering now, his forehead pressed to mine. "An' I know taking the fight to Max is just what the ornery bastard wants. But he worries me, Cougs. The look on his face that day we saw him, like he'd do anythin' to get what he wants. And then the fire...I ain't scared for myself, you know that."

Yeah, I know that. For all his sins, Jake Jensen's a brave man. He goes on talking, like the words are fallin' out of him and he can't stop 'em.

"Don't wanna lose this. First place I've called home for God knows how long. Peaceful here, I can think. Can't let Max make us run again. Can't run, Cougs, not anymore."

I rub the stiff muscles of his shoulders, then run my fingers up into his hair. I think this is the first time I've ever touched him like this right out in the open, for anybody to see. Maybe deep down I always figured it was somethin' I shouldn't be doing. But now I don't care. Jake's right. I don't want to run anymore either.

"Whatever Max does, we'll be all right." I hold his face 'tween my hands and stare at him, tryin' to make him believe me by sheer force of will. "But we gotta be smart, can't just go runnin' off starting a fight with the man. We can't go toe to toe with him, 'cause he'll kill us all and get what he wants, won't he? We gotta be clever and last out as long as we can." I smile and try to mean it. "Maybe somebody else might do the job for us. I bet we're not the only ones he's causing trouble for."

"Now that'd be real convenient," Jake says with a smile.

"Yeah." I kiss him again, just 'cause I can. "We're fine. We'll be fine. Honest. Just gotta be careful and not give Max a chance to make trouble for us." And we have to hope he doesn't manage to find out who we are and just what we're wanted for.

"I can be careful," Jake says, one hand warm and heavy on my waist, the other still at my neck.

I smile and twist my fingers back into his hair again. "I know."

Jake tastes of coffee and the bacon Jolene gave us for dinner. Before I know what I'm doing, I'm holding onto him, kissing him for all I'm worth.

I can feel eyes on us, I open mine and see Jolene watching us from the cookhouse door. She smiles and nods and pats her growing stomach. Just for a minute, I wonder what it'd be like, to know there was a baby of mine somewhere in the world. I envy Pooch a little.

Then Jake runs his tongue along my lip and I realise that I don't need any of that. All the family I need or want is right here in my arms. Damn, Jake ain't just my family, he's my whole world. I might be scared witless of losin' him, but I ain't gonna let that stop me from enjoying the bright parts of life. Jake's my candle in the dark and I'm damned if I'll let Max snuff that out.


	23. Chapter 23

Roque's face is a picture as he rides into the yard. I've seen the guy mad before but right now he looks ready to kill. I keep my mouth shut as he slides off his horse and throws the reins at me but Jake can't resist sayin' something.

"Hey, what's up with you? You swallow a wasp or something?"

Roque glares at him and growls. He can do a better growl than most dogs I've come across. It's pretty impressive but right now I'm more concerned with the fact he looks like he might punch Jake.

"Where's Clay?" Roque would have made a good outlaw, I'm sure of it. He could've scared people into handin' over their money just by asking.

"Cookhouse," Jake nods at it, "'s'where we're headed too."

Roque snarls again and spins on his heel, marchin' so fast toward the cookhouse, Jake and me have to run a little to keep up.

"What d'you reckon's goin' on?" Jake hisses at me.

I shrug, "How do I know?"

"Can't be good," Jake bites his lip, "not with that look on his face."

I know Jake's right but I try to make myself hope it's nothin' serious.

By the time we get to the cookhouse, Roque's already in full swing, ranting at Clay.

"Dead, every one of 'em. Poisoned from what I can tell. Every single damn one, Clay." He slams a fist down onto the table, makin' the plates rattle and Jolene gasp. "He's tryin' to kill us bit by bit, wearing us down, takin' away everything we've got till we have to leave or starve. He ain't gonna give up, Clay, not till he gets this stupid chunk of land."

"Wait a minute," Jake says, eyeballing Roque, "who's dead?"

"Sheep," Roque spits, still glarin' at Clay. "Whole damn flock. Just keeled over by the look of it. No reason for healthy sheep to just lay down an' die, it's gotta be Max."

Shit. Those sheep cost Clay a fortune, they hadn't even been here two months. Now every one of 'em's dead? I look at Jake, he's got dismay and worry all over his face. Yeah, I probably look the same. Max ain't gonna stop till he gets what he's after and if it means cutting the ranch to pieces bit by bit, I think that's what he'll do.

Clay sits back in his chair, real slow. He's breathin' hard and I think he's having a hard time thinking of somethin' to say. Must be a real kick in the balls to lose so much money like that, all in one go.

Roque still looks like he's ready for a fight, I hope to God Jake keeps his mouth shut, big as he is, Roque's bigger.

"Well?" he demands, his hands balled into fists. "What are we gonna do about it? Clay? We can't just let the bastard get away with this."

"How do you know it was Max?" Clay's speaking real low an' his eyes are on the table, not Roque.

"What?" Roque screws up his face and shrugs, "I don't know, not for sure, but it's gotta be, doesn't it? Who else would do somethin' like this?"

"Could've been an accident," Clay says, "bad pasture, some kind o' sickness. Could have been sick when we bought 'em. Don't know for sure what happened and we ain't gonna prove it to nobody, are we?"

Roque wipes a hand over his face and breathes real hard. Jake inches closer to me, his leg's pressed against mine. I kind of want to grab his hand or somethin' but I don't really wanna draw any attention to us, I figure Roque's in such a mood, he might take a swing at the first thing that moves.

"Jake, Cougar, go with Roque. Burn the carcasses." Clay looks up at us and there's a world of hurt in his eyes.

All of a sudden I feel sorry for him, he's tryin' to hold on to what little he's got in the world and it's starting to slip away. I slide my left hand down behind my leg and fumble to find Jake's fingers. After a minute they're there, holding on to mine. I breathe a little easier.

Jake nods at Clay, "All right."

I think maybe he might say somethin' else, somethin' 'bout going to have it out with Max, but he clicks his teeth shut and leaves it at that. I'm amazed, first time he's ever made an effort not to say something.

The ride up to the sheep pasture's grim and quiet. It ain't the most pleasant of jobs, dealin' with a load of dead animals.

Roque's silent and angry, I try to avoid looking him in the eye. Jake glances at me now an' then, but just shakes his head and looks sad.

It takes us most of the day but eventually there's nothin' left of the sheep Clay was so proud to have bought. I wonder if Max can see the smoke from his window. The vicious bastard, he's not gonna stop till he's caused a world of hurt for all of us. I rub my eyes, would it be best for me and Jake to just go? We could head south, Mexico might be safer for us.

I can feel Jake's eyes on me, I look up at him and raise my eyebrows. He gives me that little half smile that means he's thinkin' a lot and shakes his head again. Yeah, I know what he means. This is as much our battle now as it is Clay's. Why should Max get away with this? Only thing is, I don't know how we're gonna fight him.

Jake's fingers brush across the small of my back as he passes me. He's right again, I'll leave the thinkin' to him, it's what he's good at. I'll just be the soldier when I'm needed. Makes a change to have somethin' worthwhile to fight for.


	24. Chapter 24

The sky's grey and overcast when everything goes to hell in a handbasket with a ribbon on the top. Fat raindrops are falling, keep findin' their way 'tween my coat collar and my neck. It's a day to be in the cabin with Jake, keepin' warm in the best way we can, then stoking the fire when we're done. But as always, there's chores to be done, animals don't care if it's raining, they still want to be fed.

I'm on my way to the stable when Roque clatters into the yard, swearing and cursin' before he even manages to haul his horse to a halt. I frown, what's gone wrong now? Then I see that he's got somethin' limp slung across the saddle in front of him. Shit, it looks like Pooch.

Jake and Clay appear out of nowhere, both runnin' and lookin' serious. They get to Roque before me and catch Pooch as he slides off the horse. He's limp and not makin' a sound and for a heart-stopping minute I think he's dead. There's a noise behind me and Jolene's arm brushes mine as she pushes past. She's got a hand to her mouth and such dread on her face, I feel like I'm intruding on a scene she shouldn't have to share.

But then Pooch shifts and moans and Jolene gasps. I find Jake's eyes and see relief there too. Thank God he's not dead. Pooch is a nice guy, he let me and Jake into his life without any trouble, never asked any difficult questions, just accepted us. I never had a brother but if I did, I think maybe I'd like him to be like Pooch.

Clay and Jake are bent over Pooch so they don't see Roque more or less fall off his horse. The sound of my feet thumpin' in the dirt's too loud in my own ears. The big man might be more ansty than Pooch but he's not a bad guy. He ain't movin' when I reach him. Running my hands over his shoulders and chest, I feel somethin' slick and sticky. Blood? I have to roll him onto his front a little to find the wound. It's worryin' that he don't make a sound as I do it. He's all limp and pliant, which ain't good.

The blood's coming from a bullet wound low down on his right side. It ain't a through and through like Jake had, more of a flesh wound but there's a hell of a lot of blood everywhere. Pullin' Roque's shirt up, I suck in my breath as I see the damage. Looks like the bullet scored his ribs, plowing through just enough skin to rip things up and make a real bloody mess. Even in the low light I can see a glint of white through the blood, shit, that's a rib.

The rain plops loudly on my hat brim and manages to run down the back of my neck. Roque still ain't movin' and his eyes are shut.

"Jake!" I yell. "Help me, gotta get him inside and stop the bleeding."

From the corner of my eye I see Clay shove Jake back down as he starts to get up to come over to me.

"Stay with Pooch," Clay growls.

I wince as I see that one of Pooch's legs is bent at the wrong angle. There's not as much blood on him as there is on Roque but all the same, it's gotta hurt like hell. He ain't makin' much noise though, just a few choked off gasps now and then as Jake tries to figure out what to do. Jolene's kneeling by his head, strokin' his face, muttering things to him. I remember what it's like to think the most important thing in your life's laying at your feet, about to die. I swallow down the dread that never really left me since the night I got Jake shot. Should never have gone back to Abilene.

"Hey," Clay slaps my shoulder, "quit daydreamin' and help me."

Roque's a heavy old weight to lift but somehow we manage it between us. The cookhouse table probably ain't the place to be treatin' gunshot wounds but it'll have to do.

Clay looks like he knows what he's doin', and I remember him looking after me and Jake when we needed it most, back in Hays City. There's a lump in my throat all of a sudden, maybe I should thank him properly for helpin' us that day, I ain't never said it, not right to his face. I open my mouth to say something but he shoves me out of the way and tries to get Roque's vest and shirt off.

"Hold him up, will ya, don't just stand there gawking at me," Clay snaps, and all my sentimental feelings vanish.

Together we get Roque's clothes off, there's a long, bloody wound on his ribs, bullet must have gouged its way through the skin without goin' too deep. He winces and moans as Clay pokes at it, trying to see how we can get the ragged skin back over the bloody bit.

"Hey, buddy." Clay's up by Roque's head in no time, I never thought he could move that fast. Never thought he'd sound that nice, either. "Don't worry, we're gonna fix you up, nothing serious."

Roque manages a quick smile, shifts a bit, then thumps his head back on the table, hissing in pain.

"Bullet didn't go in," I offer, busy with a cloth and some water, wiping the worst of the blood off. "Just tore things up a bit. It'll heal."

"What happened?" Clay sounds a mite desperate and I can't say I blame him. "How did Pooch end up hurt so bad?"

Roque's fist curls into Clay's shirt, "He all right? I got him back here, is he all right?"

"Yeah, yeah," Clay doesn't try to get his shirt back. "Jolene's with him, his leg's busted by the look of it. What happened?"

"Don't know," Roque screws up his face, then curses at me as I try to clean him up. "We were on our way back, don't know what happened, was really fast. I was in front, Pooch wasn't far behind me. Horses must have smelled someone else nearby, mine got spooked. While I was tryin' to calm her down, I heard gunshots, then it felt like my ribs were on fire. I heard Pooch yell, then I think his horse got shot, anyway, they both went down and Pooch was stuck underneath the damn thing."

His eyes are a long way away, rememberin'. I feel sorry for him as he goes on.

"Took me forever to pull him out, dead horses ain't light things. They kept shootin' at us for a while, think they were enjoying themselves. Fuckin' awful shots though, should've killed us a dozen times. Don't rightly know how I did it, but I got Pooch free and somehow both of us up on my horse and hightailed it for here. Think I heard the bastards laughing as we ran."

I glance up at Clay, he's got the hard look on his face again. I don't think he's gonna take this one lying down. Should I say something? Ask whether Clay agrees that it had to be Max? I bend back to my task and stay quiet. I'm better at bein' a soldier, other people can make the orders and hard decisions.

Roque's voice is flat and laced with pain. "Gotta be Max. Who else would attack us? God damn it, we ain't got nothing worth stealing and the bastards didn't even bother to try and make it look like a robbery. 'Nother of his games, I guess."

He winces again as I finish cleaning the blood away and tidying the ragged edges of his wound.

"Not too bad," I say, tryin' to sound like I'm not as worried as I really am. "Just messy, it'll heal up. Probably gonna scar though."

"What's one more?" Roque grunts. I nod, he's got a point.

"Go see how Jolene an' Jake are doing with Pooch." Clay's givin' orders again, sounds just like he's in the army. I wonder which side he was on during the war, then forget about it. Whichever side it was, don't matter, we're only on one side now, our own.

Jake's managed to get Pooch into the nearest cabin, I'm a little glad it ain't ours. Jolene's face is grey and scared, I crouch down next to her and try to be helpful.

"Gotta straighten this leg out," Jake mutters. "Could really use Nathan right about now."

"Well he ain't here," I say brutally, I have to cut through Jake's talk sometimes, otherwise he'll be there all day. "Need to do it now."

"I know." Jake sucks in a deep breath, then looks at Jolene. "That laudnaum you're hiding might be useful."

She nods, "I'll get it."

I put a hand on her shoulder as she makes to get up. "I'll go, you stay here." She shouldn't be runnin' around, not when she's got a little one to think of as well.

It's the work of a minute to run and grab the little bottle of laudnaum Jolene keeps for when one of us gets hurt real bad. When I get back to the cabin, Pooch is awake and groaning. I wince, it might be better if he was out cold, we could get his leg sorted out easier.

Jolene's stroking his head and mutterin' nonsense at him, trying to keep him still. I pass her the bottle and kneel down by Jake.

"Don't look too bad," he mutters, not bothering to look at me. "Clean break I think, didn't go through the skin or anythin', just gotta get it lined back up and keep it still for a while."

"Right," I said, and get back up again. I can feel Jake's eyes on me and say as I head for the door, "Splints."

It's lucky there's some flatish pieces of wood in the woodpile, I grab 'em and a couple pieces of rope. It won't be as neat as Nathan's work, but hopefully it'll be enough to give Pooch's leg a chance to heal up well enough to let him walk properly again one day.

I take a deep breath as I go back into the cabin. I don't mind blood and suchlike, seen too much of it to let it get to me, but puttin' bones back into place ain't fun. So far Jake and me have been lucky, of all the injuries we've had, broken bones ain't been among 'em. Don't know that I could splint Jake's leg, with him yelling and howlin' at the pain.

Jolene's managed to get some laudnaum down Pooch when I get back, he's quieter now, think he might be about to pass out again. That'd be better, to be honest.

She holds his head and keeps murmuring into his ear as me and Jake get to the task of straightening out his leg. Jake's the one doin' the actual pulling and pushing of bones, but I can hear 'em moving and it's making my skin crawl.

Pooch snaps awake for a minute as his leg straightens out, yelling like a madman at the pain. Jolene keeps hold of his shoulders and I lean on him to keep him still, hope he doesn't hold it against me later.

"Done," Jake gasps a minute later. There's a loud crunching sound and Pooch's leg looks somethin' like it should again.

"Bastard," Pooch gasps, then passes out again.

"Thank you," Jolene says in a small voice. "Couldn't have done that on my own."

"All part of the service, ma'am," Jake says, but I can see he's rattled. He's gulping in air and there's sweat on his face.

I get the splints tied round Pooch's leg, trying to ignore the way Jake's breathing's getting faster beside me. Just as I finish tying the knots, he bolts outside. Something splatters on the ground and I know he's just lost everythin' he ate today.

My own stomach twists and squirms, but I take a deep breath and force it to calm down. No time for that, we need to see how Roque's doin', then figure out just what in the hell's going on around here.

As though she can see my thoughts on my face, Jolene nods at me and says, "Just help me get him to our cabin, then go see about Roque."

Jake comes back in, for a minute I'm surprised to see that he fills the doorway, he's gotten so much bigger since I first met him. Guess we both have, we were only kids when we started traveling together, after all. I blink, tryin' to think how long we've been together, for the life of me, I can't remember.

Jolene brings me back to the here and now, clambering to her feet and sayin', "Come on, our cabin's the best place, he can rest there."

Wiping the back of his hand across his mouth, Jake nods. He's paler than usual and looks like he might be sick again at any moment. I edge away as he squats down opposite me. He smiles, no teeth, thank God.

"I'm all right, no need to run away from me."

I smile a little, as though I'd ever want to do that, when he's the only thing in the world worth living for.

It ain't the easiest of tasks but eventually we get Pooch into the big bed he and Jolene have in their cabin. He wakes up as she fusses round him, getting a wet cloth to wipe his face, putting blankets round his leg to stop it getting knocked or moved.

"Wasn't an accident," Pooch says roughly when she's done fluffing up the pillow behind him.

"We know," Jake says, patting him on the shoulder. "Roque told us."

"He all right?" Pooch looks at me, then Jake, real concern on his face. "He pulled me out from under my horse, don't know how he did it."

"He's fine," Jake says, an easy smile on his face. "Cougar here cleaned him up."

"Somebody was shootin' at us," Pooch says, his gaze on me. "Don't know how we're not dead."

Probably 'cause Roque's a fierce bastard when he wants to be and he didn't care that he got shot himself.

"Rest up," I say, trying to catch Jake's eye. "We'll be back soon."

Jake nods behind Jolene, yeah, we need to go see Clay and figure out what to do about this mess.

"You need anything?" I ask Jo. Her hand's back on her rounded stomach again, like she can protect the baby inside from the bad in the world. I really wish she could.

"No," she shakes her head, scared but proud. "You go see about Will, I'll look after things here."

"Will," Jake grins as we head back to the cookhouse. "Only one who calls him that. He don't seem the type to be called Will. I thought his first name was actually Roque when we first got here."

Roque's sittin' up when we get back into the cookhouse. There's blood smeared across the table and my stomach flips over again.

Clay's leaning back against the wall, his arms folded. For a minute, his eyes rest on my hips, where my guns usually lie. Took me a long time but I finally got out of the habit of wearing 'em around the ranch buildings. Looks like I'll be needin' 'em again pretty soon. For some reason, that thought really doesn't make me happy.


	25. Chapter 25

"How's Pooch?" Clay asks, his voice flat and dead.

"He'll live," Jake replies. "Just a busted leg."

Clay nods slowly, I can see him trying to think how he's gonna keep the ranch going with two wounded men and one horse dead.

"We need to do somethin' about Max." Roque pins Clay with the kind of look which would scare most other men. "We can't let him get away with this."

"Same as before," Clay rubs a hand over his hair and down the back of his neck. "Can't prove it was him, can we?"

"Since when do we need to ask whether it's legal to protect ourselves?" Roque snaps. "He's out to kill us and you want us to lay down and apologize for livin'."

I look at the well-scrubbed floorboards and stay quiet. They're both right. Clay doesn't want to get into a fight he can't win and Roque doesn't want to let some madman keep pickin' away at his home. I'd say we need to fight less 'tween ourselves if we want a chance of beating Max, but it ain't my place to say it. Jake sparks up beside me.

"Seems to me we gotta do somethin' 'bout Max, or sooner or later he's just going to kill us all and walk away laughing."

Roque grunts in agreement and Clay looks like he's aging in front of me.

"I know," he finally says. "We'll think of something. In the meantime, lets just be careful, all right? Stay together as much as you can."

He's lookin' at me and Jake and I remember what he said before, 'bout Max probably using us as a way to hurt the ranch. I don't mean to clench my hands, but they're on my belt and suddenly it feels wrong to have no comforting weight on each hip.

"We'll keep an eye out," I say, meaning I'll move heaven and earth to make sure nobody gets their paws on Jake while I'm still breathing.

Clay nods and pushes himself upright. "Right, better go see Pooch and calm Jolene down. Roque, go get some rest. You two...I don't know, just do somethin'."

Jake grins at Clay's back as he walks away from the cookhouse. "Knows how to make a man feel wanted, doesn't he?"

"That's the problem," I say, more sharply than I intend. "Bein' wanted's gonna land us in a heap of trouble. Soon as Max finds out who we are, he's gonna be all over us like a bad rash." The smile fades from Jake's face and I feel guilty for making it go.

"Maybe we ought to go see the bastard and try to buy him off or something."

I snort and look away. "Don't be dumb, Jake. We set foot on his land, he'll have us in jail before we know what's hit us."

It ain't Jake I'm mad at, it's everything and everybody, the whole world for giving us what we wanted and then trying to snatch it back again.

"So we just wait for him to make another move." Jake's shoulder's against mine again, between us we're filling the cookhouse doorway. The setting sun's flooding everywhere with the brightest orange glow I've ever seen.

"I guess."

"I hate waiting."

"I know."

"Everythin' will work out fine in the end. Always does in the dime novels."

It's on the tip of my tongue to tell Jake life ain't a dime novel, but he smiles at me and I can see he knows that already, he's just tryin' to make things seem a little better. So I nod and pull him closer, it's nice to have his weight restin' against me.

"Yeah, it'll be fine in the end."


	26. Chapter 26

"What'cha doing, Cougs?"

I look over my shoulder and throw Jake a quick smile, dusting woodchips and splinters off my hands. "Makin' us a bed. Sick of sleeping in that tiny thing we've got."

"Well don't let me stop you," Jake backs away and grins. "I'm all for it. But what are we gonna sleep on? Seems to me we'll still only have that mattress in the cabin. Can't stretch it and make it bigger."

I'm tempted to stick my tongue out at him. "I know that. Figure by the time I've got the damn thing made, we'll have enough money saved up to get a new one."

Pooch swings across the yard on his makeshift crutches, Jolene at his elbow as always.

Jake's eyes are serious and dark. I don't much like it when he gets this look, makes him look older. "Just hope we live long enough to enjoy it."

"We will." I mean to sound confident but I think it comes out as more of a growl. "I ain't gonna let Max take anythin' away from us. This is home and that's it."

There's somethin' in Jake's eyes which makes me stand up straight and really look at him. "You ain't thinking of doin' something stupid like going to see him, are you?"

"What?" Jake says, all bluster and lies. "Me? No, 'course not. I'm not dumb."

"I know," I say. "Just...let Clay figure this one out, all right?"

"You scared of a fight, Cougs?" The gentle smile which mocks me a little is on Jake's face now.

I raise one eyebrow and push my hat back. Jake laughs and ducks his head.

"Yeah, I know, Cougar Alvarez ain't afraid of nothing."

I should say something about bein' scared to death of losing Jake, but the words get stuck. So I just stand there a minute, then turn back to the woodpile. There's got to be something in here I can use for our damn bed.

Jake crowds in close behind me and kisses the back of my neck. "Make it good and big. Then I can keep you in bed all day."

I grin. "Yeah, like Clay'd let us do that. Always things to be done on a ranch, remember. No time for bein' lazy."

"To hell with Clay," Jake says, a fierce whisper in my ear which send shivers rippling down my spine. "If I wanna stay in bed all day with you, that's what I'll do and ain't a man on earth gonna tell me not to."

I swallow and wonder how just the sound of his voice and feel of his breath on my neck can me me this hard this fast.

"Gotta get rid of Max first," I manage to say after a long minute.

"Fine." Jake's got that firm tone which usually means trouble's coming. "I'll get rid of him."

I twist round to look at him. "Don't go on his land. If you do, I'll shoot you myself for bein' a hot-headed son of a bitch, understand?"

His hands slide down to my backside and squeeze. "Yeah, I understand."

His mouth's hot and wet when he kisses me, tastes like coffee again. I flick my tongue against his, chasing the taste.

After a minute he pulls back, but leaves his hands on my ass. "Later. Got things to do first. Clay's never happy 'less we're working, is he?"

"Well he does pay us to work." I hate that I sound a bit breathless. Will I ever stop wanting Jake? I kind of hope not, 'cause that means I'll be dead.

"Yeah," Jake sighs dramatically. "I guess I'll go do somethin' to earn our honest money. Sometimes think robbing banks was easier." He pats my butt again. "You keep working on that bed."

He leaves me after one more kiss which makes my head spin. Damn, what that man can do to me. I shake my head to clear it a little and try to concentrate on making a bedframe while all the time thinkin' on what we can do when it's finished and we've got a mattress to roll around on.

There might be a war comin' but I plan for me and Jake to survive it.


	27. Chapter 27

It ain't often we get people visiting, so it's a surprise when young Shadrach Reynolds appears in our yard. He works over on a ranch not too far off, he's a good kid, but very fond of the girls.

He grins at me an' Jake and slides off his horse. "Hey, boys, how're you doin'?"

I smile, he always talks to the two of us like we're the same age, I bet I'm at least five years older than him.

"We're surviving," Jake says, clapping Shad on the shoulder. "What brings you to our little piece o' paradise?"

Shad's face turns serious. "Got a message from my boss for Clay. Well, I guess it's for you two as well, seeing as it's about you."

"Oh?" Jake says.

His voice has gone hard, he's the dangerous man I've been on the run with for God knows how long again. Half of me's glad to see he hasn't lost his edge, the other half wants rid of that side of him for good.

Shad nods quickly, his hat nearly falls off. "Yeah, my boss said to let you know that Max's boys have been askin' around 'bout you two. Think they're tryin' to find out where you're from and such."

The sun's pretty warm but a chill creeps over my skin. I take a deep breath and let it out slow. So Clay was right, Max does want to know who we are. God help us if he finds out.

Shad's still talkin', his words getting jumbled as he tries to keep up with his own thoughts. "Two of Max's fellas tried to get me to talk 'bout you. But I didn't say nothing to 'em, don't like any of 'em. All think they're better 'an the rest of us, don't they? Guess they figure 'cause they work for the worst man around, they got more cause to be strutting about and lording it over everybody else, like we're less than them."

Yeah, I can see Max making people feel like that. He thinks he's at the top of the heap and he can look down on the rest of us like we're nothing but ants.

"Anything else you need to tell us?" Jake asks. His face is blank and that worries me. When he gets that look, he has been known to do some mighty stupid things.

Shad drops his eyes and scuffs his boot in the dirt. "Um, well, I don't know that it's my place to say, but, some folks been sayin' Max is sending a boy way down to Hays City, back in Kansas. Word is he's friendly with the sheriff there. Don't know that it's got anything to do with you, though."

He adds that last sentence real fast, like he's worried we'll get angry at him for bein' the messenger with bad news.

"Thanks for not telling 'em anything," I say, and Shad smiles again.

"I ain't gonna tell secrets 'bout my friends, now, am I?" he laughs a little. "'Sides, I don't know anything to tell. You two don't let much slip, do you?"

"Better that way, don't you think?" Jake says, "The less people know, the less they can tell later on."

"You really got something to hide?" Shad raises his eyebrows at me, looking all of eleven years old, he's actually eighteen. "I mean, some folks are sayin' there's wanted posters for both of you, in the sheriff's office in town. I don't believe 'em."

"Nothing to hide, Shad," I lie. "We just drifted in from Kansas with Clay. All we want is a little peace and quiet to do some honest work."

Shad nods vigorously. "That's what I was telling folks, guess they want a better story than that." He licks his lips and says carefully, "So what's Max want with you two?"

"We pissed him off," Jake says, a bit brutally. "Now he wants to get his own back because he's a mean-hearted bastard."

Shad looks down at the ground, I think he might be a little scared of this side of Jake.

"If you want to see Clay and tell him, like your boss told you to, you better come help me find him," I say, throwing my arm over Shad's shoulders. "See you later, Jake."

Hopefully Jake won't follow us, I can feel him gettin' angry from five paces away. If he gets too mad, he might start letting things slip which'll have Shad dancin' with curiosity. I needn't have worried, Jake stays where he is, staring at the ground and clenching his fists over and over.

My stomach twists, with Max out to get us, this probably ain't gonna end well.


	28. Chapter 28

I was already worried 'bout having Max mad at us and wanting to hurt us if he can. But young Shad's news that he's actually working to find out about us doubles the snakes in my stomach. What if people do manage to hear things about me and Jake? What if they find out what we're wanted for? Will someone else get in before Max and try to drag us to jail and collect the bounties on us?

But what worries me most is the thought of Jolene and Pooch findin' out who we are. Clay and Roque, well, they don't give me the shakes quite as much. I'll bet Clay's past ain't too clean and Roque's the sort of man who has some shady things he'd like to hide. But Pooch and Jolene are just...nice people. Apart from Jake, they're the only family I've ever had, they feel like a brother an' sister to me now. Somehow I can't stand the thought of watching Jolene's face when she finds out me and Jake have killed people and wilfully taken what ain't ours.

It's three days after Shad's visit that Jolene corners me behind the hencoop.

"All right," she rests her basket of eggs on her hip and glares at me. "What's wrong? Why have you started flinching every time you look at me? And you've barely spoken to me in days, I know that's not so unusual for you, but it's worse than normal."

"Nothin's wrong," I mutter, hoping I can make a fast escape. She's too big to chase me now.

"Liar," Jolene spits.

It's the first time I've really seen her angry. Last few weeks she's been all caught up with Pooch, walking round with worry in her eyes all the time, never far from him in case he needs some help. But now she's bristling like I just stepped on her tail or somethin'.

"You're trying to avoid me, why?" She ain't gonna give up easily.

I look at her for a minute, biting on my lip. There's a cold wind today but I don't think I can blame that for the shivers runnin' through me. I don't wanna bring strife down on her or Pooch or the little one. If Max really is determined to dig around and find all the dirt he can on Jake and me, trouble's going to come here sooner or later. It'd probably be for the best for the pair of us to just up and leave.

But even as I think it, I know I can't go back to bein' just another rootless drifter, always looking over my shoulder for the law. And I ain't dumb enough to think Max quit when he's through playing with me and Jake. Whether there's gold here or not, he'll kill everyone on this patch of land just for the possibility, he's already proved he's more than willing to get blood on his hands.

"Max wants to hurt Jake an' me," I mumble. Maybe she'll accept that as a reason for me not bein' able to look her in the eye. "Don't want to bring trouble here."

"It's already here," she snaps. "In case you hadn't noticed, Will's still all bandaged up and my husband can't walk without crutches!"

She's right, of course. I stand there and let her anger hit me, I'm as good a target as anyone. Better she gets mad at me than at Pooch for some little thing which wouldn't normally make her yell. I don't like the thought of the two of them fighting, don't seem right, they're good together.

Maybe it's the look on her face, fear mixed with anger with a bit of worry thrown in, or it could just be that I want to tell her I'm sorry for all the hurt she's going through, I don't know, anyway, I suddenly start talking.

"Me and Jake...well, Max has got it into his head that we're wanted or somesuch."

"Are you?" she eyes me sharply.

I purse my lips and nod. Feels odd to be tellin' someone. But it's Jolene, if she's gonna suffer 'cause of what I've done in the past, it's only right she knows why.

She rubs a finger over her mouth and stares up at me. There's bits of gold in her eyes, I never noticed that before.

"How wanted? What happens if you get caught?"

Her voice is more steady than I expected it to be. She's a hard woman to surprise.

I suck in a breath and say as I blow it out, "Jail at least, more likely a rope."

Jolene nods slowly. "Armed robbery, then? Maybe a few badly thought out jobs where you ended up killing someone? Self defence although no lawman in the world would believe it?"

I stare at her. That's not what I thought she'd say. Someone like Jolene shouldn't utter the words 'armed robbery' so easily, 'specially not with a babe wriggling in her belly. She rolls her eyes.

"Oh, come on, Cougar. You think you're the only one with a grisly past? Everybody's got secrets. Why else would we be here? Clay rounds up strays, remember? You and Jake ain't the only ones who haven't always been on the side of the angels."

My mouth's hangin' open, I know it is. Jolene's got a history? One on the wrong side of the law? What in the hell?

She smiles, wry and sad. "This ranch ain't just a place to live and raise cattle, Cougar. It's somewhere to hide."

It's on the tip of my tongue to ask what she's hiding from, but I hold the words back. Everybody's entitled to secrets, ain't my place to go prying.

She goes on anyway, her eyes still a long way away. "You're not the only one who's got blood on his hands. I killed a man, long time ago."

I blink pretty fast and try to think of somethin' to say.

"Sure, I didn't pull the trigger," Jolene says, like she's talking to herself and has forgotten I'm standing right in front of her. "But if not for me, that cowboy might be alive today."

She looks up at me and I want to hold her, there's too much hurt in her, I need to make it go away.

"Did you have a reason?" I blurt, for once the silence is makin' me uncomfortable.

She nods slowly and runs a hand over her bump. "There was a reason. Same one that makes cowboys fight over saloon girls all around this damn country. I was with one and the other figured it was time I was with him."

I try to imagine Jolene, feisty, clever, sharp tongued Jolene as a saloon floozy. There don't seem any way to connect a woman like that to the Jo I know. I clear my throat, wishing I hadn't been slow enough to get caught by a woman havin' a babe in the not too distant future. She smiles, like she knows what I'm thinkin'.

"You see, Cougar? You and Jake ain't the only ones likely to rain trouble down on this place. An' whatever it is you've done, if you really regret it, maybe that goes a way to makin' your peace. Might even redeem yourself one day, you never know."

Kicking the bottom of the hencoop gives me a reason not to look at her. Redemption? Me and Jake? Not likely. All I'm hopin' for is a chance to see grey hairs on Jake's head 'fore we get ourselves killed. Anything that happens after that, well, that ain't really my place to argue with, is it?

Jolene reaches up and pats my cheek. "Whether you're bad men or not, Cougar, it doesn't really matter here. If trouble comes, won't be all your fault. An' there's not a one among us here will judge you for what you did 'fore we met you. Seems you're doin' a good job of judging yourself."

She pats me again, real motherly. "Just remember the past's dead and gone. If what you've got here and now with Jake's worth fighting for, well, be man enough to start wearing your guns again."

I nod a little bit, there's truth in her words. With one more stroke to my cheek, Jolene hitches up the basket of eggs, smiles at me and walks off toward the cookhouse.

As she goes, I can't resist calling after her. "Who pulled the trigger?"

She doesn't stop walking, just says softly, "Who do you think?"

I smile to myself. Well I'll be. Even mannerly Pooch ain't quite a saint. Maybe me and Jake are in good company after all. And maybe if it comes down to a gunfight 'tween us and Max's boys, we might just stand a chance. I'd rather fight with former outlaws and people with dubious pasts. Seems to me one they decide they're respectable, they'll fight for it even more than law-abiding folk.

I don't think I'll tell Jake 'bout any of this, not yet at least. It's Jolene and Pooch's past after all, I don't have any right to go blabbering it to anyone.

Rubbin' my knuckles across my mouth, I head for our cabin. Jolene's right, I should start wearing my guns again.


	29. Chapter 29

Jolene's getting big now, her stomach's the first bit of her I see when she comes round a corner. One night during dinner I catch her balancing her plate on top of the bump, she blushes and says it's just easier to use it for something useful.

"What're you gonna name it?" Jake asks, his mouth full of potatoes.

"I don't know," she says, "still can't decide."

"Jacob," Jake replies, grinning wide. "That's a good name. Noble."

Pooch rolls his eyes and laughs. "Noble, my ass. You wouldn't know noble if it hit you in the head."

"I'm hurt by that, Linwood," Jake sniffs, then steals the last of the bread from Pooch's plate.

Pooch flushes at the sound of his real name, I don't know why he hates it so much, I've heard worse.

"We'll have a name by the time the kid's born," he says. "Anyway, might be a girl, can't name her Jacob then, can we?"

"Wilhemina," Roque grunts from the other end of the table.

"Frances," Clay suggests.

"No and no," Jolene smiles. "Don't worry, we won't leave him or her nameless. Just, sometimes you need to look a person in the face before you decide on things about 'em. When we see the little one, he or she might look nothing like the name we've got in mind."

I play with what's left of my food and listen. This is definitely the first time I've ever been in the middle of a conversation about baby names. Makes me wonder about my own mother again. What was she like? Did she look me in the face before givin' me my name? Or did she just leave me at the orphanage and let them name me? What about my Pa? Did he ever give her the same loving looks Pooch gives Jolene? Did he even know about me?

"Hey," Jake nudges me. "What're you thinkin' about? You got that look on your face."

"What look?" I ask, reaching for my cup. It always half annoys me that Jake can read me like a damn book, I should be better at hidin' what I think about by now.

"The one where you're thinkin' about your family." Jake's hand slides down under the table and squeezes my knee.

"No point thinking 'bout them," I say roughly. "They didn't want me. Simple."

"Their loss." The hand on my leg inches higher. I clench my fist and try to breathe.

"When you two are done tryin' to make each other pass out," Clay's voice snaps me out of my haze. "I've been talking at you for the past minute and you're both ignoring me."

Jake's hand jumps off my leg, leavin' a warm spot behind which instantly cools.

"We don't ignore you, Clay, we just don't listen," he says smoothly.

I smile and rub at the now cool spot on my thigh.

Clay sighs, soundin' like a long-suffering father or something. "I was saying, I'm gonna head out to Darby's ranch in a couple days, need to replace that horse we lost and it won't hurt to see how much it'll cost to get some more sheep."

"Not going on your own," Roque growls, stabbing at the potato on his plate more viciously than he needs to.

"The hell I'm not," Clay says. "I don't need a nursemaid."

Roque doesn't reply, just looks at Clay for a minute. Clay's the first to look away, rolling his eyes and shakin' his head.

"There's things here to be doing, don't need you babying my sorry ass."

"And what are we gonna do if Max gets hold of you?" Roque leans back and raises his eyebrows.  
I have to admit, it is kind of impressive, he's a big guy. But Jake's just as well made, same muscles everywhere and I don't think I'll ever look at anyone and think they're better than him.

"If Max gets you, or he might just decide to kill you while you're on the move, we don't stand a chance of keepin' this place, do we?" Roque says. "He'll take this patch of dust faster than we can blink and we'll be even worse off than we are now."

Just for a minute I see Clay look at Roque and I wonder again what's really between the two of 'em. There's something going on, I'm pretty sure of it, but what it is baffles me.

"He's right," Pooch chips in, nodding at Roque. "No sense in goin' haring around by yourself. That's asking for trouble."

"Can't just leave you four here alone," Clay mutters.

"We promise we won't break anything," Jolene says sharply. "We're capable of looking after the place for a couple of days, Clay, and you know it. If you need to go, then for goodness' sake, go and stop worrying about it. At this rate you'll have white hair before this cub's born."

We all laugh at that, Jolene's fierce when she gets riled.

Clay nods, "All right. We'll head over to Darby's place next week." For some reason he looks at me. "Won't be gone long."

I duck my head, I don't know what he wants me to say. Sometimes I think I'm not very good at bein' with people. Jake saves me, like he has a dozen times before, slapping the table and grinning.

"We'll keep everything running here, never fear."

Clay doesn't reply, just keeps looking at me with that strange expression on his face, like maybe he wants to say somethin' but doesn't know how. I wonder if he's thinkin' about Max and how we made him look bad in front of his men by turning down his offer of jobs. Still don't know what to say, and it makes me feel like an idiot. I reach for my hat, I was done with dinner anyway.

"Gonna go check on...somethin'."

Jake's eyes follow me out of the cookhouse, I can feel 'em on my back. It ain't likely to be long before he follows me and sure enough, before I've gone ten steps, he calls to me.

"What's up?"

"Nothin'," I reply. He sighs behind me and I instantly feel bad. "Just...Clay still thinks Max is gonna try and get us back for not going to work for him. The way he keeps lookin' at us, it's starting to worry me."

Jake grins, that big, fake grin which fools everybody but me. "As though a mean little bastard like Max can hurt the terrible outlaw Cougar Alvarez."

He crowds close and gets a hand into my hair, pulling my head back a little to make me look at him. His eyes are really blue today, even in the fading evening light.

"As though I'd let him. Stop thinking, Cougs. We're all right, really. We'll make Max go away and everythin' will be good, I promise. You trust me, don't you?"

I try to reply but my throat's gone too dry to speak. Damn, Jake's still the most gorgeous thing I've seen in this whole stupid world.

He drops his head to plant a line of kisses up my neck. The shiver which hits me is strong enough to make my knees wobble.

"Bed," I manage to croak. "Soon."

Jake chuckles against my skin, makin' more shivers and shudders ripple through me. "I'll be there, soon as I can. Got things to do first, remember? Need some firewood, 's'getting cold at night now. Soon be winter."

He lets go of me and steps back, taking all the heat with him. The evening chill suddenly bites at me and I realize fall's sneaked up on me without me noticing. I shiver again, not through want this time.

Jake laughs. "Get that bed built faster and we'll have some place to keep warm, won't we?"

I smile and nod. Yeah, that's a good reason for working faster on that thing.

"We can keep this place goin', while Clay and Roque are away." I don't know why I say it, maybe I'm looking for Jake to tell me I'm right.

"Sure we can," he replies, easy and quick. "We're a good team. We can do anything."  
He frowns a little and pinches the top of his nose.

"What?" I ask.

"Nothin'," he replies. "Just a headache."

I bite the inside of my mouth, that's strange, Jake doesn't get headaches very often. Least not ones he admits to.

"See you in bed," he grins, the frown has vanished already.

I don't say anythin' as he walks away, don't need to. He knows I'll be there as soon as I can.


	30. Chapter 30

Clay and Roque leave for Darby's place a few days later. Clay still ain't happy 'bout leaving me and Jake to run his ranch but he ain't really got much choice. Roque won't budge about going with him and Pooch still can't get round too well, his leg's healing but he's on crutches and not much use on a horse yet.

Jake and me watch as Clay and Roque vanish into dots in the distance.

"Well, guess we got ourselves a ranch," Jake says, his hands on his hips. "Always did like the idea of bein' a landowner."

I roll my eyes. "It ain't ours, you fool."

Jake grabs my wrist and pulls me to him, kissing me soundly. "It is for now."

"When you two are done, there's stables and a cowshed need cleaning out." Jolene's voice makes me jump away from Jake. Damn it, my cheeks heat up, when will that stop happening?

She smiles at us like we're a pair of wayward kids. "It's good to be with people you love, ain't it?"

Her hand runs over her belly, soothing and protective. All of a sudden I feel the strangest kick of somethin', some emotion which tells me I'd kill anyone who tried to hurt her or Pooch or the little one. Never had that before, 'cept with Jake.

"Yes, ma'am," Jake replies. "Sure is."

Jolene's smile slips a little, changing to a grimace, her hand's still on the bump and she's breathin' hard. Jake looks at me, fear plain on his face. What's happening? I shrug, I got no idea.

"Jolene?" Jake asks, real wary. "What's...um, you all right?"

She doesn't answer for a minute, then she straightens up and smiles. "Yeah, I'm fine. Jus' does that now and again. Gets all tight and hurts a little, guess maybe little Elijah's practising gettin' out of there."

"You sure he's only practising?" Jake's smiling but there's fear in his eyes.

I know how he feels, it never really occurred to me that someday we'd have to help Pooch's kid come into the world. I don't know what to do. Couple weeks ago I helped deliver a calf but that's as close as I've ever come to someone bein' born. Not sure I want to be responsible for getting a kid out of its mother.

"Don't worry," Jolene grins. "Everything will be fine when it does happen. You two just need to learn how to hold a baby."

With that she turns on her heel and walks away. Well, it's more of a waddle now but I wouldn't want to be the one to tell her so, she's a good shot with a wooden spoon and that damn thing hurts when it smacks across a man's hands.

"Why do we have to learn how to hold the kid?" Jake's frowning again. "You think she's gonna make us help look after it?"

I can't help but laugh. I've seen Jake fight his way out of hostile saloons, cheat at cards with the roughest crowd ever and blow up jails just to get me out of 'em. But here he is, scared at the thought of bein' in charge of a baby.

"Come on," I say, elbowing him. "Chores to do."

He follows me back to the farm buildings, grumbling all the way.


End file.
